


Falling Into Place

by summerwine



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Addiction, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bottom Louis, Dom/sub Undertones, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-30
Updated: 2016-11-30
Packaged: 2018-09-03 00:50:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 40,757
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8690176
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/summerwine/pseuds/summerwine
Summary: Louis let the hot tears stream down his cheeks as he leaned forward to attach their lips. He pressed into Harry’s soft bottom lip and brought one hand to scratch at Harry’s curls. Harry traced his tongue lightly against Louis’ top lip and gently pried his mouth open to deepen the kiss. Every emotion from the past few months was poured into the intensity of the embrace.   Every swipe of the tongue was an apology and every soft whimper was forgiveness.orLouis and Harry spend nine years apart but inevitably find their way back to each other.





	1. Seventeen, Cheshire

**Author's Note:**

> This work was inspired by the songs Affection and Starry Eyes by Cigarettes After Sex. The art work featured in this fic is by Andrea Castro (Amazing artist, check out her work) Chapters in italics are flashbacks. Harry and Louis are the same age. Sorry for any inaccuracies. Just pretend I know what I'm talking about.
> 
> Thank you to everyone who helped me with this fic! Glad it's finally out. Enjoy!
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> [ Tumblr ](http://www.summerwinefics.tumblr.com)

_Thick clouds of fog settled in and out of the weed infested field. The humidity was wet and suffocating and the rise in temperature was cause for the sweat collecting at corners of Louis’ hairline. Grass burrs pricked at the ankles and knees of his jeans, as he sprinted through the overgrown terrain, and the stagnant muggy air turned his fluffy fringe into lifeless strands._

_He was supposed to meet Harry, his life long friend, and to no one else’s knowledge, life long crush, where the sticky field ended, and the babbling brook began._

_They grew up the only two kids on their side of the tiny village, and although they could not be more opposite, they’ve been best friends since before they could walk._

_Harry was well known on and off campus whereas Louis was more of an introvert that stuck close to the art community, and didn’t venture too far from the familiar faces. Harry partied on the weekends and earned top marks in every class, and Louis further explored his talents in painting, drawing, and on the rare occasion, polaroid film._

_He was running late due to locking himself in the school's art room, and getting lost in yet another oil painting, inspired by the young beauty._

_Gorgeous, cherubic, Harry, with wild, untamed curls, porcelain skin, rosy lips, and the deepest, most enchanting, shade of green eyes. The most clever, intelligent, and alluring boy in all of sixth form, who was adored by many, and hated by few._

_Harry. His muse._

_The curve of his lips and the dimples in his cheeks inspired countless sketches turned into paintings. Stacks of polaroids and film documented each smile, and candid moment between them, and Louis spent his evenings shuffling through them with a private smile on his face._

_He loved their friendship and cherished every moment, but always wondered what it would be like if he took it a step further..._

_Louis sped up the movements of his legs as the body of water came into view. He panted through the fields, and down to the banks of the water. He managed to avoid losing his bag and only slightly tripped over himself._

_He followed the slippery pebbles down to their designated meeting spot, and stopped for a second to appreciate the view in front of him._

_Harry was perched on top of a log with his trousers rolled to his ankles and his toes resting in the stream. He had a collection of pebbles beside him, and one by one, tried to skip them across the water._

_Louis was incredibly endeared and all together breathless._

_“I can see you,” Harry smirked and his dimple carved it’s way into his left cheek. Louis snapped out of his daze and jogged over to join him, “You’re late. Was afraid you’d forgotten about me.”_

_“Please,” he panted out, still trying to catch his breath from sprinting. He tossed his bag to the side and sat criss-cross next to Harry, “Couldn’t forget you if I tried.”_

_He ruffled his hand gently through Harry’s curls and pulled back to ensure it was kept platonic. Harry kept his eyes trained on Louis. Flickering from his eyes to his lips, repeatedly._

_Louis basked in being the center of Harry’s attention. Swore that in moments like these, there was something else behind that stare. Something warm and intimate. Swore that he’s never seen Harry look at someone the way he looks at him._

_But, of course, he reeled himself back in with his own doubts._

_Louis turned his head to let the flush of his cheeks dissipate before flicking his fringe out of his eyes. When he turned back, Harry’s eyes were still focused on him, and it seemed he had moved in closer._

_“What painting did you get caught up in this time?” he asked with genuine curiosity._

_“Oh, um,” he cleared his throat and adjusted his fringe once more, “This one’s actually something I just thought up today. Haven’t quite figured it out yet.”_

_“Is it another piece that you’re always vague about and won’t let me see until it’s complete?”_

_Yes._

_Most of the time it is._

_But he can’t exactly explain to Harry that each painting is inspired by him without sounding like a crazy, obsessed, twat._

_“It might be.”_

_Harry just shook his head and directed his shy smile towards him, “I wish I could live inside your brain for a week. I’d love to see everything through your eyes.”_

_Louis snickered under his breath and tried not to blush under his words._

_“How do you even have friends spouting weird shit like that?”_

_They both chuckled softly with each other and Harry seemed to be inching closer and closer, “You should have a pretty good idea. You’ve stuck around long enough.”_

_He cocked his head prettily against his shoulder and smiled at Louis with the softest set of eyes. He was so effortlessly beautiful. Louis wanted to tug on each curl that framed his face and wanted to kiss the pink off his lips._

_Fuck. He made it so easy to fall in love with him._

_“And it’s been a pleasure.” he cleared his throat and rubbed a gentle hand against Harry’s knuckles._

_This is what it could be like._

_The two of them spending time together in seclusion, surrounded by the sounds of rushing water, and birds softly chirping. Nobody would ever find them back here. Just them. Completely immersed in privacy and each other._

_If Louis only ever had the courage to tell Harry how he felt._

_He directed his gaze back up to find Harry staring back. This time with a faint blush staining his cheeks and his eyes twinkling more than usual._

_“Lou,” Harry half whispered, “There’s something I’ve been wanting to talk to you about. For a while actually.”_

_Louis swallowed hard and tried not to let anxiety fill his thoughts, “Yeah? What is it?”_

_“Well. I think….I think I like someone.”_

_Fuck._

_Louis’ heart dropped into his stomach and the world around him crumbled. He always knew this day would come but dreaded it’s arrival anyway. Harry finally found someone, after 17 years, who piqued his interest. And it wasn’t Louis._

_Of course it wasn’t._

_“Oh, um, who is it?” the words left a bitter taste in his mouth. Of course he didn’t want to know who it was. He’d rather crawl back under his paint splattered rock and never return again._

_“Well, they’re a boy,” he chewed on his lip hesitantly._

_“Do I know them?” Louis’ stomach churned in anticipation and just prayed it wasn’t someone he knew or knew of._

_“Yes,” he released his lip and Louis internally sighed at the answer, “I’ve actually known them for quite a while, as well.”_

_Fuck._

_Just Louis’ luck. It was a mutual friend and someone Harry’s known now for a while. He’s probably been in love with the bloke for ages, and Louis has just been too oblivious._

_“That’s great, H. You should let them know. I’m sure whoever it is will feel the same.” he said with a weak smile._

_His heart broke as the words fell from his mouth. Here he was, encouraging the only person he’s ever loved, in his 17 years of life, into another lads arms. It hurt like hell, but if it made Harry happy, he’d just have to get used to it._

_They’d still have their friendship…right?_

_Ugh._

_“Well, he’s the most gorgeous lad I’ve ever seen. He’s a little reserved, but once you get to know him, he’s boisterous and funny, but also sweet and intellectual,” each word he spoke was like a dagger to the heart. Did he really need to hear all of this? “When he talks about his dreams, he get’s all starry eyed, and passionate, and I wish every night, that someday, he’d talk about me like that.”_

_Damn. Harry was fucking gone for this mystery lad._

_“He listens to me with genuine interest, and doesn’t hang around me because of who I am, or who my friends are. He treats me with care and tenderness and he’s the same way with each of our families.”_

_What? They were already familiar with each others families? Why hasn’t Harry brought him around yet if the two of them were already so close?_

_“He sounds great, Harry.” he bit out and turned his face to hide the jealousy raging inside of him._

_“Yeah. He is. And I’d really like it if he went on a proper date with me, and hopefully soon after, would agree to be my boyfriend.” he directed his words at Louis and turned Louis’ face with his hand._

_His eyes were searching and he was continuously gnawing on his bottom lip nervously. What was Louis supposed to say? He couldn’t make the decision for the kid._

_“You’d have to ask them, H, I can’t make up his mind for him.” he shrugged apologetically._

_Harry scoffed out loud and shook his head, “Jesus. You’re more oblivious than I thought.”_

_What?_

_“What are you on about? I have no idea who they are, I can’t just say yes or no for them.”_

_“Louis,” he picked his feet up out of the water and turned to sit criss cross facing Louis, “It’s you, you idiot. I want to be with you, and I have for quite some time.”_

_Louis looked at him in confusion as the words registered in his mind._

_OH FUCK!_

_Harry liked him! He actually liked him and wanted to be with him. All of those nice things were spoken with Louis in mind and not with somebody else._

_“Me?” his voice shook._

_“I’m sorry if you don’t feel the same, and if this ruins our friendship, but I just had to take a chance, and tell you, Lou. Ever since I can remember it’s always been you.”_

_Louis couldn’t think. He couldn’t speak. And he definitely couldn’t run away at the revelation. He just sat there, shocked, jaw opened ajar, and replaying the words over and over in his head._

_Minutes or hours could’ve gone by but Louis couldn’t be arsed to care._

_Harry liked him back._

_“Fuck, I’m sorry, Louis. Just—I don’t know. Pretend this never happened, yeah?” Harry began to rise but Louis caught him by his elbow._

_“Wait, no, H. I—I feel the same. I’m just…in shock. I never thought you’d feel the same about me.”_

_Harry’s eyes widened and his dimples took over his face, “Wait, you mean, like, you like me back, and you want to go out with me? Would that be okay?”_

_“Of course, Harry, I’d love nothing more.” he spoke gently and bit down on his lip to keep his smile from taking over his face._

_“Oh God, thank you, Lou,” he reached forward and tugged Louis tightly to his chest. The position was awkward and his ankles were digging into the log beneath him, but there was no other spot on earth he’d rather be, “I’m going to wine and dine you properly, yeah? And then we can go see a film, and come back here, and I can ask you to be my boyfriend under the stars, and it’ll be fantastic. How does that sound?”_

_Louis released his lip and took Harry’s hands in his own, “Sounds like a date. Can’t wait.”_

  

  
\--


	2. Twenty, Greenwhich Village

The fucking honking never stopped. The sun went down at four in the afternoon. The window in the apartment was a fucking bitch to open and the ac was pretty much useless. Nobody tells you when you move to New York City that it’s filthy, rat infested, and filled with shitty apartments.

Obviously New York had it’s beautiful areas, and it was everything it’s cracked up to be in films, but even with scholarships paying off Louis and Harry’s school, their monthly income wasn’t enough to afford the lavish lifestyle New Yorkers were stereotyped to live.

Louis was currently half hanging his scantily clad covered body out of their tiny window and half trying to get some sort of paint down on the canvas in front of him. The joint between his lips was doing nothing to inspire him and was only adding to the dullness in his life.

“Can you blow the smoke out the window? I’m trying to study for fucks sake.”

Harry was grouchier than ever and their relationship was holding on by a single thread.

When they first moved here together it was like a fucking dream come true. Louis was accepted into Pratt and had been excelling in illustrations and film. Harry was accepted into NYU and was finally able to make his lawyer dreams a reality.

They each lived in their own dorm rooms, the first year of their new lives in America, roughly a fifteen minute train ride away from each other, and they would spend most weekends intertwined, and helping one another study. It worked at the beginning and the two of them were unshakable as a couple.

As time progressed Harry became closer to the other law aspiring students and weekends spent in each others dorms, turned into weekends spent drinking. At first, Louis didn’t mind, he’d get high off of bad weed, and curl up into a drunk Harry’s lap, and they’d showcase their affection for the entire NYU student body to see.

They were young, fucked up, and in love, and everything didn’t seem to be going to shit.

But, of course, that wouldn’t last forever.

Harry got more involved with the party scene, where as Louis grew more tired of the same meaningless activities they’d participated in the weekend before. Invites from his own boyfriend stopped being passed along, and instead he’d wake up to a sloshed Harry banging against his door, and be kept awake by a hysterical Harry crying into his arms until the wee hours of the morning.

Louis’ roommate, Liam, was understanding of their rocky relationship and, surprisingly, was always rooting for them. Even after all the nights of Harry barging in and causing scene after drunken scene.

Louis never knew where he was or who he was with, but figured, if Harry ends up at his door in the middle of the night, unharmed, things couldn’t be _that_ bad.

Harry skipped out on partying one weekend, and used all that time to cater to Louis. To show him that he was still one hundred percent in it.

He took Louis to different galleries and art museums, and softly whispered _your work will be hanging here some day_. He took him to a rooftop restaurant, and gazed deeply into his eyes, instead of the skyline in front of them, and lastly fucked him thoroughly throughout the remainder of the weekend.

Harry apologized for his behavior and swore to do better at including Louis and spending more time alone together.

To be fair, he did go through with it.

Harry was back to letting Louis curl up in his lap, and would shotgun until their bones were lazy and content. He went back to spending Saturday evenings laying Louis out and teasing him for hours and hours, until they both couldn’t stand it, and fucked him into the mattress. He would carry Louis around on Sunday mornings due to Louis’ soreness and pure love for his boy. They’d spend the rest of the day catching up on their course work, and sneaking tiny kisses while they awaited Harry’s train.

At the time, Louis felt like he was getting _his_ Harry back. He felt like any doubts he may have had earlier in the semester were just him dramatizing the situation. He felt more secure than he ever had.

It went on for all but a month. And everything went to shit.

Again.

It was Harry’s 20th birthday and Louis had a special evening planned for both of them. He shoveled out a few hundred dollars from his savings to rent a hotel room in Midtown Manhattan, with an incredible view of the Empire State building, and rose petals sprinkled strategically from the entryway, to their king sized bed. He even managed to nick a bottle of Champagne whilst being under the legal age limit in America.

Louis skipped all of his classes in order to set up everything perfectly. He texted Harry to meet him in his exact location around 8. When the sun set and the clock dwindled down Louis dusted body glitter against his naked body, opened himself up, and stuck a bow right above his tailbone.

It was meant to be a silly gift, seeing as he couldn’t afford another after spending too much money, on a too fancy room, but he knew Harry would enjoy it.

He laid face down awaiting his lover's arrival.

It didn’t come at 8.

It didn’t come at midnight.

It didn’t come at all.

Nobody was around but Louis was _humiliated_. He tossed each rose petal into the garbage, scrubbed his body clean of any dusting of glitter, and cried himself to sleep.

Louis couldn’t talk to Harry for a week. Couldn’t even bare to look at him.

And maybe that was where it all went wrong. Maybe that one week of silence is what changed Harry for the worst.

Weekends spent together were a thing of the past. The rare dinners were filled with awkward silence and forced small talk. Louis’ paintings suffered from him being uninspired. Instead of vibrant colors, he stuck to muted tones, and followed darker themes. Harry got drunker and drunker, and eventually started showing up to his classes still buzzed.

Louis couldn’t bare to let his mother know how things in America were actually going. Each call went unanswered, each text went unread, and eventually he didn’t hear from her at all. All he had in the world was Harry, but it never felt like he did.

Louis suggested they move in together for their second year of uni. Both of them would be moved out of their dorms, and he felt like this could help save their relationship. Harry agreed to the idea and promised he would do better with how he treated Louis. He promised he didn’t want to lose him and he’d do whatever he could to keep the love between them alive.

But promises were meant to be broken...right?

Harry’s problem only got worse. He thought he was clever by inviting his law friends over night after night, to have a few drinks for any minuscule reason, but Louis knew what he was doing. He knew he couldn’t put the bottle down for more than twenty-four hours.

He once tried to hide every bottle in their cramped apartment to try to ween Harry off of it. But if there was ever a mistake made in his life, that by far, was his worst.

He came home to a torn up apartment. Shelves and cabinets all rummaged through, storage flipped over on it’s sides, and their entire living room in shambles. He walked through the door of their bedroom to see Harry passed out across their bed with each hidden bottle drained and tossed to the side.

He was sure Harry was dead.

Tears that poured from his eyes and screams that projected from his mouth didn’t even register as he held Harry’s limp body in his arms. He begged and begged for Harry to come back to him, vowed the rest of his time on earth to be dedicated to helping him get better.

He threaded his fingers through Harry’s sweaty curls and tugged, hoping to shake him awake, but he was out, and no amount of screaming, or tear drops spilling onto his face, was bringing him back.

When the medics burst through the door, and pried Harry’s body from his hands, he truly felt in that moment, that his life was over. His body shook uncontrollably, his screams became increasingly incoherent, and the further away Harry was taken from him, the further he slipped into the darkness at the back of his skull.

It was the worst day of his life and he still hasn’t forgiven himself for it.

“I am blowing the smoke out the window.” Louis answered as he was quickly brought back to reality. He tried his best to avoid thinking about that day.

“No, you’re blowing it at your canvas and you’re hanging your arse out the window for all of New York to see.” Harry growled out and slammed his book shut.

Louis took a long drag of his shitty joint and stubbed it out. He slid off of the windowsill, turned his body to stick his head out the window, arched his back, and exhaled the smoke within him.

“Is that what you prefer?” he turned to face Harry with a raised eyebrow.

“I do actually, and I’d prefer you’d put some clothes on.” he rolled his eyes and made his way toward their bedroom.

Louis had no idea how they were even together.

The arguing never ceased. The nights spent cuddling in bed turned into, one sleeping on the couch, and the other waiting up just to find out they weren’t going to be joined. The intimacy during sex turned into rough fucks that lasted all of ten minutes if they were lucky. Maybe it was the fact that they had so much history. They’ve been together for four years, and long before that they were each other's best friends.

Louis didn’t know if you could even consider them friends anymore.

He loved Harry, deeply, and he knew Harry felt the same. They just weren’t in a good place right now, and their immaturity was only making things worse.

“Put these on if you’re going to leave the window open,” he tossed Louis one of his NYU t-shirts and a pair of cloth shorts, “I’m going out.”

Oh...?

“Again? You went out last night, don’t you think you should take a break?” he asked with genuine concern. Harry just glared in response and tied his hair into a bun, “I really don’t think you should leave.”

He fiddled with the clothing in his hands and chewed on his lip as he awaited Harry’s reply. He was ignored as Harry slipped on his boots and grabbed for his keys and wallet.

“Don’t wait up for me, Lou.”

And...no. He wasn’t going to be let off that easily.

Louis dropped the clothing in his arms and marched over to the front door blocking it with his half naked body. Harry stared down at him and reached for the doorknob behind him.

“No, Harry, you’re not well. You should be recovering and getting your school work done.”

“Move, Louis. I’m not doing this with you tonight.” he reached for the door knob once more but was swatted away by Louis’ hand.

“Doing _what_ with me exactly? Huh? You mean coming home, ignoring me for hours on in, and sleeping on the couch at the end of the day? Or do you mean, not letting me know where you are, or who you’re with, and leaving me to worry about you for hours, until eventually you stumble through the door, pissed off your arse? Because if you don’t mean either of those I’m not sure what you’re talking about."

“Jesus Christ, Louis! You make it sound like I neglect you. I fucking live with you, isn’t that enough?” his deep timbre echoed through the room, “I feel like I’m being suffocated each time you check up on me, or try to get me to stay in. I’m an adult, and I’m just going out for a few hours, with a few friends, you know I always make it home! There’s nothing to be so up in arms about.”

“What if you don’t make it home this time, Harry? What if I go looking for you and I fucking find you passed out in some alley like I did in our bedroom? What if I’m too late this time? What if—“

“You’re being dramatic! I wasn’t even planning on drinking tonight! But I sure as fuck could use a drink right now.”

He stomped over to the locked cabinet and ripped the wood off it’s hinges. Fucking christ, how were they supposed to pay for that?

“H, don’t! You’re going to ruin your liver, you’re supposed to be taking it easy! Please...”

Harry ignored his pleas and twisted off the cap to his nearly empty bottle of scotch. Louis felt the lump in his throat begin to constrict his breathing, and hot tears rimmed his eyes, as he watched the love of his life put his life in danger.

Harry’s face contorted in pain as he swallowed and slammed the bottle down on the counter. Louis moved closer into Harry’s space and wrapped his arms around his neck.

“Please, Harry, you can drink here, but please don’t go out tonight. I’ll do anything, I’ll drink with you if I have to, or you can fuck me through the night, but please stay. Just stay.”

“No, Lou! I told the lads I’d come out tonight! I’m not even planning on getting pissed!”

“Stop lying to me! How many times do I have to hear that and then drag your dead weight into the toilet?”

“I’m not lying! Maybe if you had a little faith—“

“Harry—“

“NO! God, it’s not wonder your mother never calls anymore! You’re so bratty and if things don’t go your way you bring everyone else down with you!”

“Don’t bring her into this! I stopped answering her calls because I couldn’t bare to explain what’s going on with you!”

“I couldn’t give a shit what you say about me! My boyfriend of four years hasn’t trusted me since we moved to America, let alone loved me, why would I care about anything you have to say about me?”

“You know that’s not true, I’ve loved you since we were kids, Harry! How could you be so blind? I just want better for you!”

“Well you have a twisted way of showing it. Trapping me in this piss poor excuse of a home won’t prove to me how much you love me, and neither will inviting up another man while I’m gone.”

Louis knew he was talking about Liam.

He’d invited him over a couple of nights where Harry was out and Louis didn’t know where he was. Liam would console him as Louis vented and cried over his and Harry's delicate situation. Harry walked in on them a few times where Liam was hugging Louis into his chest and Louis was bawling into his shirt, and nearly got physical with Liam over trying to put moves on his boyfriend.

Louis explained over and over again how they were just friends and Liam was the only person in the world he could talk to without being judged, but Harry still didn’t trust it, and was always blatant about his jealously.

“He’s just a friend, H. A straight one! You’re the only one and have been my entire life.” Louis nearly whispered.

Harry grabbed the bottle and took another long swig of the amber liquid and smashed the empty glass into the bottom of the trash can. Harry brushed past Louis to grab his phone and his keys.

Louis turned to watch him, knowing he couldn’t do or say anything to stop him, and dropped to his knees.

“Please, stay. I’m begging…”

“Why don’t you spend your time with your second boyfriend. I’m sure he’d be more than willing to hold you through the night,” Harry bit out as he swung the door open, “Don’t wait up.”

He slammed the door and didn’t bother locking it behind him.

Louis stumbled over to the window, tears clouding his vision, and knees scraping against the wooden floors. He watched as Harry briskly exited the building and stepped onto the damp sidewalk. Harry stopped in his tracks and turned to face the window.

It was dark outside, but there was no denying the sober look of guilt on his face as their eyes met. Louis’ lips wobbled and a new wave of tears streamed down his face as he saw the glassiness of Harry’s eyes intensify.

It was almost like he knew what he was doing was slowly killing both of them. He knew Louis wasn’t fit to properly help him through the toughest time in his life. He knew he was wrong in how he treated Louis and knew that neither of them deserved this unfathomable amount of sadness.

He knew he was wrong, as his eyes filled up with tears, and the corners of his lips pointed downward in a frown, but he quickly huffed out a breath, and turned to signal for a cab.

Louis had to try one last time, “Please, Harry. For us. Just come back inside and we can fix this,” his voice shook and his breath hitched from the amount of emotion stuck in his throat, “Please…I love you.”

A cab pulled up to where Harry was standing and Harry reached for the door. He slid his body halfway in and turned to look at Louis. He kissed the tips of his fingers for a moment and blew it towards him, and before Louis knew it, he was gone.

Louis slid down to his knees and cried hysterically into his hands. His heart shattered into a million pieces and he was choking on his own emotion. He felt like the Harry he knew and loved for so many years was dead and gone.

For once, the rare moments of old Harry coming out to play weren’t enough. Louis couldn’t stand to be an enabler anymore.

But the idea of leaving Harry was a pain that surpassed any other.

How could he just up and leave someone who clearly needed him? How could he carry on alone in this massive city without his best friend, and absolute love of his life?

This would be the fucking hardest thing he would ever do, and he was sure Harry would hate him forever, but something had to be done.

Louis wiped at his eyes and lifted himself up off the floor. He picked up Harry’s shirt and tugged it onto his body, followed by the shorts Harry handed to him. He went into their room and grabbed for his phone.

He dialed Liam’s number as he moved to his closet to pull out his luggage.

“Hello?” Liam’s calm voice came through the line.

“Hey, Li,” Louis cleared his throat and sniffed as much emotion away as he could, “I, um, I have a favor to ask you.”

“Sure,” he answered without hesitation, “What is it?”

“I need somewhere to live for the next few days. I promise I’ll only stay long enough until I find a place, but…Harry and I are done. So...”

“Shit, Lou, of course. You can stay regardless if you find a place or not. D’you want me to come over and help move anything out?”

“Uh, yeah actually if you don’t mind. I just need to pack up my clothes, and art supplies, and don’t think I could manage by myself.”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m actually in Greenwich right now, I’ll catch a cab, and I’ll be there in a minute.”

“Sounds good,” he paused as he considered everything that was going on, “Thank you, Li. Seriously.”

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll see you.” and the line went dead.

He dragged his body over to his closet and pulled out two of his largest cases of luggage.

He packed away his small collection of clothes and piled them on top of his even smaller collection of shoes. He zipped his first bag of luggage shut and moved on to pack away his art supplies.

He stared at the current canvas he was working on and felt more emotion rise inside of him. It was a sketch of Harry’s lips, the same sketch he’d been doing for years and years, and this time he didn’t have it in him to finish it.

He set the canvas to the side and broke down his easel while collecting all of his brushes and paints. He carefully placed them into his second set of luggage in his room and zipped it tight once he was finished.

He buried his face in his hands and tried to regulate his breathing. This was happening. There was nothing that could stop it.

Louis knew he had one last thing to do before he left Harry’s life forever. He knew it would probably be the defining moment where Harry decided he’d hate him for the rest of his life, but if potentially saving him made Harry hate him, he wasn’t going to hesitate.

Louis grabbed his phone once more and dialed the one person who he knew would clean this situation up.

Anne. Harry’s mother.

He wasn’t sure what time it was back in Cheshire but this pressing matter was more important than any amount of sleep.

The line rang and rang and eventually led to her voicemail. The recording tone went off and Louis took a deep breath before relaying his message.

“Hi, Anne, it’s Louis. Um, I don’t mean to frighten you when I say this, but there really is no easy way to put it. Harry—“ his voice cracked as tears began to burn at the back of his eyes all over again, “Harry is…not well. I know he’s kept you in the dark, and has pretended like everything’s okay, but I think he might need help. Professional help. And I’m just not cut out for it.

His throat clogged with emotion and his body shuttered as the reality of his words hit him.

"I love your son more than life itself, and I have done everything in my power to get him better, but I’m not qualified to take on a problem like this, and it's starting to wear both of us down. I want the very best for Harry, and if that means removing myself from his life to get him better, so be it. I’ll always be just a phone call away, but I just needed you to know, before anything serious happened. I love you and Harry, both, so much, and I send my best wishes your way. Hope he gets well soon.”

He ended the call just as his front door buzzed.

Louis hopped up from his crouched position and went to buzz up Liam. He wiped at his eyes and tried to make himself as presentable as possible.

It was useless. He was a fucking mess.

“Lou?” Liam yelled out.

“In the bedroom.”

Louis listened as his footsteps approached and dragged his luggage to the side of the room.

“Hey,” Liam addressed softly, “You alright?”

Louis weakly smiled and shook his head so he wouldn’t have to say no.

“Well let’s get you going. A cab is waiting for us out front.”

Louis nodded his head, grabbed his phone, and rolled his art supplies behind him. The both of them left through the front door and Louis locked it behind him, sliding the thin silver key back under the door, and sighing at the feeling of finality.

“You ready?”

He would never be ready to leave his one and only behind. But he knew he had to.

“Yeah. Let’s get out of here.”

   
\--


	3. Twenty-two, Brooklyn

Snow covered the streets in thin grey blankets and ice frosted the glass of each building Louis passed on his walk from the art shop. The streets were filled will people no matter what time of night, or how infuriatingly cold. The same vendors harassed him to buy their products, the same cabs sped through pedestrian crossing, and the same jammed door always welcomed Louis, to what he now called, home.

The art studio was rented out to him through a fair share of denied applications, hundreds of begging phone calls, and tons of american dollars in scholarships. There was no way Louis would be able to afford this place, and an apartment, so he was currently residing here.

It wasn’t actually considered _housing_ , and he could probably have his studio taken away from him if anyone ever found out, but this is where he slept, showered, and basically, lived.

The room had high ceilings and white walls. The floor was concrete and polished, accompanied by cracks in the foundation, and paint splatters scattered across the surface. Two floor-to-ceiling windows took over the north wall, but provided a view of only the grey, deteriorating, building in front of it. A small corduroy couch sat in the middle of the room and his clothes hung on the rack of his small bathroom shower.

His canvas, paints, and easel collection has grown over the years, and took up most of the space in the tiny room. But this was all he needed.

Or, that’s what he kept telling himself anyway.

He pushed through the door of his studio, shucked off his thin coat and worn out vans, and dropped his keys on top of the pile. He didn’t bother picking it up. Nobody was coming around anytime soon anyway. Who cared.

He walked to the middle of the room on sore feet, and dropped back onto the outdated, and probably disgusting, couch beneath him.

Going to school full time and working full time was exhausting, but it was necessary. The soreness in his tendons and the aching at the bottom of his spine was just another reminder that his dreams and aspirations would never just be handed to him. If he worked hard and stayed humble, someday it would all pay off, and especially having the privilege of living in New York City, he’d have to work ten times harder than another person with the same goals and aspirations.

It was a tough fucking life. Barely scraping by and not being one hundred percent sure where his life would be in a few months after he graduated. It was tough only being in contact with his mother a handful of times over the past two years. It was tough feeling so lonely in a city so massive. He’d often let his mind drift to simpler times, and sometimes felt, if given the opportunity to drop this life for a day in his old one, there would be no hesitation.

His old life that included Harry.

Louis hasn’t seen or heard from him since he left him in the middle of the night. Hasn’t heard from Harry’s mother. Hasn’t caught a glimpse of Harry around the busy streets of New York. Hasn’t even seen an updated picture of him in _two_ years.

He wouldn’t even know if he’d recognize him had he seen him.

For most people, two years is long enough to move on, and forget about the person you left behind. But as the days stretched on, and the years got longer, he couldn’t help but feel his guilt pile, and couldn’t help but miss him more each day.

He still fucking loved him.

How do you go on for two years loving someone you knew absolutely nothing about?

He reached underneath the couch for the old shoe box he kept tucked out of sight.

Louis felt emotions rise in his throat like bile, burning and suffocating, and it wasn’t a feeling he could easily swallow down. Tears stung at the back of his eyes as he curled himself into his shitty couch. His lips trembled as he removed the lid.

Old polaroids filled the space of the box and a few slid out from the sides. Louis felt so weak. Couldn’t even open a box of photographs without a wave of sadness crashing over him. Wouldn’t even be able to find it in himself to throw the box away.

His voice audibly cracked in the quiet, lonely, room as the first photo caught his eye.

It was the two of them dressed in flannel pajama bottoms and thick wool sweaters, hair still wild from sleep, cheeks rosy from the warmth of the fire behind them, and Harry with a lap full of Louis, gazing into each other's eyes, instead of the birthday cake Harry made for him.

He owed his life to whoever captured such a pure moment. Probably his mum. Or his sisters.

It was clear how in love they were even back then. Even though they were still so young, naive, and preparing for a life together in America.

If Louis could, he’d warn the both of them of what was to come. He’d save their innocence and save themselves from the ugliness the both of them would have to endure. But he couldn’t. And it pained him to know there was nothing he could do to even save the state they were in now.

He let his tears freely roll as he shuffled through the memorabilia.

Some people say nostalgia is a dirty liar, and manipulates the truth about the past, but they were fucking wrong. Every last one of these photos was proof of the deep connection between them, and even with the photographs as proof, Louis lived through it.

He lived through Harry sneaking in through his window late at night and sneaking back out before the sun would rise. He lived through stolen kisses when no one was looking. He lived through the first time hearing Harry say _I love you_ , and he lived through the last time hearing Harry say _I love you_.

Even if the last time was a drunken whisper in the dead of the night, it still held the same weight. Louis never had any doubts about Harry's love for him, no matter what he was going through.

And that was the main reason for his guilt.

He shuffled further through the stacks and ended on the most recent one. Louis heart stuttered in his chest and he hiccuped through the increase of emotion.

The little amount of sun they got in their one bedroom apartment, streamed through their curtain-less window, and reflected off the side of Harry’s sleeping face. His curls cascaded down his broad back and over his naked shoulder. The navy sheets pooled at the bottom of his spine and the pillow dipped slightly where his head was resting.

He was so beautiful.

Louis remembered that moment clearly. It was a rare occasion where Harry got a full night's rest and actually wrapped his arms around Louis, pressing soft kisses into his shoulder, and repeating apologies until he drifted off to sleep.

Louis remembered waking up the next morning, feeling very well rested, and elated with happiness when he took a peek over his shoulder.

Harry was sleeping soundly. Even breathing and unmoving features, and Louis didn’t have it in him to wake him from his slumber. He maneuvered out of Harry’s hold and took a second to appreciate the moment. He wished he could live in it forever.

He reached on top of his bedside table and brought the bulky camera up to his face. Harry’s back raised up and down gently and he didn’t show any signs of waking up anytime soon. He snapped the picture and the shutter clicked crisply in the silent room.

Louis pulled it from the printing slot and set the camera back down. He waved the image back and forth to speed up the drying process and admired Harry as he did. Some people might consider his actions creepy, but those people had no idea what it was like to watch your lover struggle with a task as simple as sleep.

Louis didn’t know when that opportunity would arise again so he immortalized the moment.

He brought the photograph to his lips and squeezed his eyes shut to avoid tears from spilling over. His chin wobbled and the burn in his throat intensified. He could barely breathe when he pulled his lips from the glossy paper between his fingers.

He’d give anything to be able to know what Harry was up to these days. Would his unruly curls reach down to his chest? Would he be in a happy, healthy, environment? Was he still in New York? Did he still study law?

Had he even thought of Louis at all?

Louis kept the photo in his hand as he tucked away the others. He picked his body up off the couch and carried himself over to the string of clothespins where he usually dried his water color paintings. He pinched one open and stuck the photograph of Harry inside.

It was a small act, but it seemingly turned the dull studio, into a warm home.

Harry was home. Harry would always be home.

He wiped at his eyes with the sleeves of his sweater and ran a hand through his fringe. He glanced over at the three empty canvases he needed to complete by the end of the month, and for once in the last two years, felt inspired again.

He missed Harry more than anything in the world, and sometimes the feeling was overwhelming, but he had to get this done, and if not for himself, for the boy he was endlessly in love with. The boy with a heart of gold.

  
\--


	4. Seventeen, Cheshire

_”Harry I can’t do this! I’ll bloody mess it up for everyone involved!” Louis panicked._

_“It’s just cupcake mix and I already measured everything out. All you have to do is mix the dry ingredients first and then add the wet ones,” he said it like it was so simple, and, okay, it was, but these were cupcakes for Harry’s mums birthday, and on top of that, coming out as a couple cupcakes, “You’ve got it, baby, I believe in you.”_

_He grinned brightly and pressed a kiss to Louis’ forehead._

_“You’re about to eat your words, Styles. Don’t say you weren’t thoroughly warned.” he pointed an accusing finger and lifted an eyebrow._

_Harry let out a soft laugh and turned back to creating the icing in front of him._

_Louis busied himself in his corner of the kitchen and dumped each cup and tablespoon of dry ingredients into the mixing bowl. Harry’s kitchen equipment was no joke. Every mixer was top of the line and Louis was not about to take any chances._

_“H…how do I put the bowl into the machine to mix?”_

_“Set the bottom of the bowl onto the bottom of the mixer and turn it until it locks in place.”_

_Again. So simple._

_Louis did as Harry instructed and turned the bowl until he heard a distinct click. He attached the whisk that Harry laid out earlier, and adjusted it until the tool was locked in place, and ready to mix. He switched it on only to find out the he forgot to plug it in._

_Ugh. He was not cut out for this._

_He reached for the cord and hovered over the machine to be able to reach the outlet—_

_“Louis, wait!”_

_It was too late._

_Flour shot out of the bowl from different directions and covered Louis’ entire front. Harry jogged over from his icing station and pulled the plug from the wall as quickly as possible._

_Louis wiped the flour from around his eyes and took in the mess before him._

_White substance covered the kitchen counters, the floor, and his entire ensemble. A wave of nausea instantly took over him as his suspicions of destroying these cupcakes became reality._

_He couldn’t even make eye contact with Harry. Was too ashamed and embarrassed that he couldn’t handle the simple task of mixing._

_“I’m so sorry, Harry! I didn’t even think to turn the switch off as I was plugging it in, and I’ve ruined all your hard work, and I’ve ruined your mum’s birthday. I completely understand if you’re mad at me, but I can fix this! I promise! I can—“_

_“Lou,” Harry chuckled as he lightly brushed the ingredients off Louis’ cheeks and lips. He ruffled his other hand through Louis fringe and swatted the cloud of white out of his face. Louis blushed as Harry looked at him with no anger in his eyes but something soft. Something softer than usual, “I love you.”_

_The words spilled from his lips like syrup. Sweet and slow, and Louis couldn’t contain his smile. He always felt like Harry was in love with him, but hearing the words come straight from his mouth, for the first time, was life changing._

_“You love me?” he asked with wonder and a hint a surprise._

_“I do,” he pressed a small kiss to his sugar coated lips, or maybe it was baking soda, either way he stayed there for a beat too long, but it felt so right, “I’m in love with you. I think I always have been.”_

_Butterflies erupted inside of Louis and his heart was bound to beat out of his chest, “I love you, too. Pretty much since the day I met you.”_

_They both smiled into their next kiss and let out soft giggles between pecks. Louis wrapped his arms around Harry’s neck and hugged him tightly._

_“So you’re not mad?” he whispered into his curls._

_“When have you ever known me to be mad at you?” Harry spoke calmly and soothed his hands over Louis’ back._

_“I dunno, but right now would be an understandable place to start.” he pulled back and looked into Harry’s eyes._

_“I’m not mad,” his dimples deepened and his hands squeezed at Louis’ hips, “But I would appreciate it if we cleaned this up together and tried again.”_

_“I’m not touching that devil machine if that’s what you’re suggesting.” he smirked mischievously._

_“Of course not, baby. Wouldn’t want to further traumatize you,” he pinched at Louis’ side and gave him a slight smack to the bum, “Let’s get to work.”_

_“I love you.” Louis said through squinted eyes and the cheesiest smile he’s ever experienced._

_“I love you, too.”_

  

  
\--


	5. Twenty-three, East Village

Another year has passed and Louis is officially another year older. Twenty three sounded so young, but he felt like he’s aged ten extra years. The city that never slept usually kept people busy and moving, but it seemed for Louis time sped around him, and he was stuck in a never ending rut.

He sat out of his tiny window and rested his sock covered feet on his fire escape. He’d finally found an apartment in East Village that he could afford and wasn’t a complete shit hole.

The heating worked, the floors were wooden, the ceilings were high, and even if it was a little cramped, it was cozy, and the buildings that surrounded him weren’t tall enough to completely drown out the sunlight.

Louis was content and it showed through his art. Something that hadn’t been evident in a long while.

He looked out onto the empty street and popped a bite of Liam’s birthday and Christmas cupcake into his mouth. He knew the tasty treat was laced with cannabis. Could smell it the day Liam rushed into his apartment before his flight back home, and apologized for not being able to share it with him on his birthday.

Louis didn’t mind.

Having to share a birthday with Christmas Eve got lonely over the years but it was absolutely understandable. If he could, he’d fly back to his family in a heartbeat, but sadly, he couldn’t. Not with the job he had and the rent he had to pay.

The cupcake was perfect. Louis was treating himself and easing his mind at the same time. He’d have to be sure to repay Liam somehow.

He tore off another chunk of the cake and savored it on his tongue. The streets were quiet, the snow sprinkled gently from the sky, and landed on his eyelashes and the tip of his nose. The twinkling decorative lights lining the trees and windows around him provided a softness that wasn’t often found in this city. The night was still and peaceful around him, and if he wasn’t already feeling the calming effects of the edible, it would probably send him into a state of paranoia.

He ate through a quarter of the cupcake, and decided to save the rest for when Liam, and the rest of his friends, arrived back for New Years. He let the chilly air caress his skin and swung his legs back and forth from the ledge of his window. Another half hour passed by as he stared into the quiet night when he heard the soft tone of his phone go off.

He swung his legs from the windowsill, and took the two short steps it took to reach his bed, where his phone laid.

The number wasn’t saved in his contacts and it wasn’t familiar either. Maybe it was his mother, or one of his sisters, calling to wish him a happy birthday.

He slid his finger across the screen and brought the phone to his ear, “Hello?”

There was soft static on the other line but no voice answered back.

“Hello…” he answered softly again, “Hellooooo?”

Silence.

“Anybody there?” he pulled the phone from his ear and checked to see if they were still on the line.

He listened closely for a second, and it might’ve been a trick of the brain, but he swore he heard soft breathing, and rustling in the background.

“Hello?” he tried one last time.

When he was met with silence for the fifth time he decided to end the call. He was sure if it were a family member they would call back or at least send a text because of the bad connection.

He set his phone down and walked across the hall to his small kitchen. He rummaged through his half empty refrigerator and picked at some leftover take out. He’d just about die for the glazed ham that his mother made each year for Christmas, but two day old noodles would have to suffice.

He grabbed a glass, filled it with water, and chugged it all the way down. He heard a ping, immediately followed by another, come from his bedroom. He set down the glass and trotted towards his bedroom to go see who it was.

He plopped himself on his bed and grabbed for his phone. Two messages from the same unidentified number.

Hmmm.

He swiped the notification and opened them up.

He jolted up in bed and his heart went from zero to sixty in the blink of an eye. The chilly air fled out of the room and was replaced by suffocating heat. His eyes welled up and the sharp pain of nerves stabbed at his insides.

_Happy Birthday, Starry Eyes._

_xxx_

   
\--


	6. Twenty, Greenwich Village

_Louis was lightly jostled from his lonesome sleep in a bed made for two, but mostly inhibited by one. He felt the bed dip behind him and arms softly snake around his waist. His body was pulled back into Harry’s front and soft kisses were pressed into the skin where his sweater was slipping from his shoulder._

_“Baby,” his deep voice whispered into Louis’ neck, “Wake up."_

_Louis rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and checked the time on his phone._

_12:00 am._

_“Is everything alright?” he turned around in Harry’s arms and brought one hand to his cheek and the other to his curls, “Are you okay? What’s wrong?”_

_“Nothing’s wrong,” he chuckled out softly and pressed his lips to Louis’ forehead, “It’s officially your birthday. I wanted to be the first to tell you Happy Birthday, so, Happy Birthday,” he brought Louis in closer and attached their lips in a slow, deep, kiss._

_Whenever Harry kissed him like this, Louis could usually taste traces of liquor on his tongue, but this time, all that was there was the naturally sweet taste of Harry, and if there was one birthday gift he could ask for, it would be this._

_“Close your eyes, I have a surprise for you.”_

_“I thought we would save our money this year for food and rent.” Louis worried his lip between his teeth._

_They promised each other no gifts because they could barely afford the life they had as is, and if Harry got him something, he’d feel pretty shitty for not returning the favor._

_“I didn’t spend any money, I promise. I just happened to borrow a lot of supplies from friends and neighbors.”_

_Louis gave him a questioning stare and Harry just laughed quietly._

_“Just close your eyes, please?”_

_Louis gave in and closed his eyes. The next thing he knew he was being picked up and cradled into Harry’s arms. He squeezed his eyes shut tighter as he was tossed around effortlessly and trusted that Harry wouldn’t take them too far._

_“Don’t open yet.” he set Louis down and shuffled around the small apartment._

_Louis twiddled his thumbs and suppressed a smile as Harry put the finishing touches on whatever he was doing. This version of Harry was so rare these days and Louis was beyond grateful to be able to spend his twentieth birthday with him._

_“Okay….open."_

_Louis opened his eyes carefully and his breath was taken away from him._

_Sat on their rickety coffee table was a sheet cake, with buttercream icing strategically placed to replicate Van Gogh’s Starry Night, and a light dusting of translucent glitter sprinkled on top. One lit candle was pushed into one of the stars and the flame illuminated the small space of the room._

_“Is it okay?” Harry was kneeled to his left in the space between the couch and the table. He pinched his bottom lip between his fingers nervously and looked up at Louis with hopeful eyes._

_It was more than okay. Amazing even. It was nearly identical to the original painting, and it was made from icing! Harry was so good at everything he did but this honestly...took the cake._

_“You did this?” Louis smiled down at him with shimmering eyes._

_“Yeah, the lady next door let me use her kitchen for the past week, and all I had to do was pay her in baked goods.” he smirked proudly._

_“Harry...” he paused welling up with emotions, “It’s so beyond amazing. Thank you."_

_He pressed his lips against Harry’s. Pouring emotion into the embrace and making it clear that Louis appreciated all the time and effort put into this. Their lips separated for all but a second and Louis pressed one last kiss to Harry’s mouth as a silent thank you._

_Harry grabbed Louis’ hands between his own and rubbed delicate circles into his knuckles, “You want to know why I chose this for your cake?”_

_Louis nodded his head and flicked his fringe from his eyes._

_“Last year when I took you to the MoMA, this was the one piece you couldn’t take your eyes off of. You stood there, in awe, tracing every swirl of paint with your eyes. I came up behind you and tried to pull you away by the waist, but you didn’t budge. You also paid me no attention when I started to kiss down your neck, in the middle of the art museum, for everyone to see,” Louis let out a wet laugh, eyes crinkling, and nose scrunching, and Harry looked at him like there was no one else in the world, “You were just so starry eyed, and I could just see the fiery passion in your eyes when this image was placed in front of you, and I just wanted to try to give you that moment all over again, but this time, with my hand somewhere in it.”_

_Wow..._

_Louis was at a fucking loss for words._

_He was overwhelmed with love and adoration for the boy in front of him. Harry had his own demons he had to battle with, but it was such an unreal feeling to be reminded that he loved Louis deeply, and underneath every argument, and restless night, this was the real Harry. The Harry Louis would never give up on and the Harry that Louis would love until the end of time._

_Louis let the hot tears stream down his cheeks as he leaned forward to attach their lips. He pressed into Harry’s soft bottom lip and brought one hand to scratch at Harry’s curls. Harry traced his tongue lightly against Louis’ top lip and gently pried his mouth open to deepen the kiss. Every emotion from the past few months was poured into the intensity of the embrace._

_Every swipe of the tongue was an apology and every soft whimper was forgiveness._

_Harry pulled back from the kiss abruptly and laid a gentle kiss to Louis forehead, “Blow out your candle, baby.”_

_Louis totally forgot about the bloody thing._

_He glanced over at the halfway melted candle and looked back to Harry. He repeated the silent wish in his head and leaned over to blow out the flame._

_“I love you.” Louis whispered and squeezed their hands tightly._

_“I love you,” he pecked at Louis’ lips and across his cheeks until he was satisfied with the amount of kisses he’d given, “Happy Birthday, Starry Eyes.”_

 

  
\--


	7. Twenty-four, East Village

“Lou, come on, just one night! When’s the last time you got off with somebody, anyway?”

Leave it to Louis’ invasive as fuck friends to totally place him under a microscope.

“I don’t believe that’s any of your business,” he snipped at Stan, a coworker down at the art shop, who introduced him to another local artist, Niall, who was also already weirdly friends with Liam. The lot of them clicked instantly and were currently pressuring Louis to go out to a newly opened gay bar, “And besides, anything south of Houston is way out of my budget.”

He made himself comfortable in his bed once again and ignored the three pair of eyes burning into the side of his face.

“You won’t even have to pay for anything,” Liam pointed out, “We’ll cover the cab up there and the three of us will be your wingmen for the night.”

“Yeah,” Niall piped in, “We’ll find some daft old sod, and convince him you’ve got gold shitting out of your arse,” Irish as all fuck. America would never rub off on him, “I’ll even take care of the first round.”

“Come on, Lou. Just one night, and if you’re having an absolute terrible time, we’ll leave.” Liam bargained.

Louis considered it for a second.

He’s never really experienced authentic New York City night life, even after how long he’s been here. His past few wanks were just plain pitiful, and maybe a one night off with somebody, wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world.

Except. He hasn’t been with another person since…Harry.

Guilt filled his chest as he thought about the possibility of giving himself to someone other than him. It’s been four long, lonely, years.

How long would he allow himself to sit around?

Louis decided to defy the voice in his head screaming at him not to do it.

“Alright,” he sighed out, “But I expect to be wooed by the fittest lad there, I will take nothing less.”

The three of them cheered and high-fived each other.

“Now if you could all wait outside, I’d like to get ready in peace.” he lifted off the bed and shooed them out of his room.

“Wear something tight!” Stan shouted before the door was slammed in his face.

He truly needed different friends.

He looked at himself in his full length mirror. He wasn’t going to lie to himself, he was genuinely scared, and it showed in his reflection, but he refused to give in to the pressure, and he turned away from the glass.

He was doing this.

It might be a mistake, but he would never know until he made it.

  
\--

  
Louis was currently sitting by himself on a barstool as his friends went on a manhunt for his potential hookup. He was glad he put effort into his outfit and hair tonight, the bar was slightly upscale, and everyone inside reeked of American money.

“Lou, I think we’ve found the guy for you.” Liam shouted in his ear.

Louis winced at the volume and shouted back just as loudly, “Well, bring ‘em over. I haven’t got all day!”

Liam raced over to the other side of the bar and Louis rolled his eyes at his eagerness. He sipped and winced at the Irish lager Niall purchased for him. He was never a big fan of beer and this seemed to be beer times ten. He felt bad for nursing it all night, seeing as it was way overpriced, but each sip was like creamy piss, and it just wasn’t satisfying.

“You don’t have to drink it if you don’t like it, babe.” a deep British voice came from behind him.

He couldn’t place the region of the accent but it was definitely British.

He turned his head slightly to see the person speaking to him and nearly choked on his drink when he did.

The man was a stunner. Clean shaved face, black hair messily coiffed on top of his head, eyes a unique shade of honey brown, and a long slender body covered in tattoos.

Louis recovered quickly and set his drink down to reply, “I know I don’t, but I’d feel guilty letting it go to waste.” he shrugged his shoulder coyly and batted his eyelashes as if he had a clue to what he was doing.

“How about I finish that off, and I’ll get you something you’ll actually enjoy, yeah?”

“Yeah,” he said a bit shyly. He’s never done anything like this in his life and the guy he was doing it with just happened to be the most attractive guy in the bloody neighborhood, “I’m Louis.” he introduced quietly.

The man shook his hand firmly with a soft smile on his face, “M’Zayn. It’s a pleasure.”

  
\--

  
“I think I’m in love with you…”

It was the sixth month anniversary of Louis and Zayn meeting.

Their night at the bar didn’t end in a one night stand, but it led to a first date, and that first date led to many after, until eventually, Zayn asked Louis to be exclusive.

It was such a tacky way to ask someone to be your boyfriend. Louis let it slide then but it still bothered him now.

Zayn was from money and was an aspiring high fashion model. Of course he was. He charmed everyone around him, and was a great person to have deep conversations with. He knew everything about Louis’ past, including Harry, and was always kind hearted enough not to judge.

He always tried to spoil Louis rotten with art supplies, and tempting offers of having his own studio, but Louis never really felt right accepting any of the gifts he offered. It always seemed like Zayn felt obligated to keep him happy with grand gestures, or expensive objects, and something always felt...off.

Speaking of feeling off, what did he just say?

“You what?” Louis choked on his water and coughed into his cloth napkin.

“I said, I think I’m in love with you.”

His words were sweet but his eyes were void of emotion.

Louis’ heart sank with the weight of guilt.

He should’ve ended this a long time ago. He should’ve never let it get this far, to the point where neither of them wanted to be in this relationship, and both of them were trying to force something that wasn’t there.

“Zayn—I,” he broke off not knowing what to say or where to start, but usually in these situations the other partner is probably expecting an I love you back, “I don’t—I’m just—“

“It’s Harry isn’t it?” he accused with an all too knowing stare.

“What are you on about?”

“You’re still in love with Harry.” it wasn’t posed as a question, but as fact.

He knew, Louis knew, everybody knew.

Louis was suffocating in the thick, awkward, air. He couldn’t push one word past his lips and anxiety started to bubble in his chest.

“I don’t think we should see each other anymore, Lou. It’s not fair to either one of us.” he spoke gently with no malice behind his words.

Louis hung his head in shame but couldn’t find it in him to disagree, “You’re right,” he lifted his head back up and looked Zayn in the face, “I’m sorry if I led you on. You’re truly a great person and I’m lucky you’re so understanding.”

“We all deserve to be happy, babe. Even you.”

The waiter came to their table with the bill at the pinnacle of awkwardness. Zayn peeked at the check completely unfazed and shoved a few bills in the fold.

“Thanks for dinner.” Louis attempted to lighten the mood.

“My pleasure. D’you want me to call you a car or something?”

“No, thanks. Think I’ll just walk around for a bit.”

“Okay, be safe, and if you ever need anything, I’ll be there.” Zayn stood up from the table in a blasé fashion, kissed the front of Louis’ forehead, and went on his way.

Louis had just been dumped for the first time in his life and he felt…alright? Somewhat relieved? Maybe a little guilty for not feeling much at all, and maybe a bit conflicted about his life up until this point.

He sighed and pushed back from the table. He gave the waiter a small smile before speed walking out of the building.

It was a bloody shame he’s lived in the same city, for nearly five years, and he still didn’t have every neighborhood and borough memorized.

Regardless of not knowing where he was, he walked a couple blocks forward, and tried to clear his head. He might’ve been in SoHo, judging by the industrial style buildings, and the amount of Chanel and Gucci’s he’s passed. Or maybe it was the same one’s over and over again and he was just lost.

Despite the time of night, citizens buzzed around the streets, and the shops showed no signs of closing. The chaotic movement around him didn’t exactly calm his mind, and the never ending honking, pierced at his ear drums.

He needed to find somewhere to relax, and fast.

He stuck his hands into the pockets of his tight black jeans and lowered his head as he sped past the slower walkers. He dodged shoulders and shopping bags to his left and right, until he ended up on a more peaceful corner.

A neon martini sign caught his eye. He wasn’t normally the one to casually drink, and he wasn’t really in the mood, but maybe a sugary beverage, or two, wouldn’t hurt him.

He walked the short distance and adjusted his pushed back fringe and the few strands that framed face, in the reflection of the bar’s windows, and pushed through the door.

The lighting was dim with shades of blue and it was mildly packed. The seats at the bar were nearly entirely taken and only a few booths were left unoccupied. He instinctively curled in on himself, as he made his way to the corner of the bar top, and took advantage of an empty seat.

He waited patiently for a bartender to become available and fiddled with his hands in his lap. The idea of a drink was starting to sound less appealing as loud voices bounced off the walls of the business, and multiple pairs of eyes looked at him like he didn’t belong.

Was his thin cotton t-shirt not good enough for this crowd? Or maybe it was the fact that he arrived here alone looking like a kicked puppy.

Either way all of these people could bugger off. He was uncomfortable and not really sure where in New York City he was, and that thought unsettled him even further.

Before he could make an executive decision to leave, he heard an oddly familiar honk of laughter, and it continued into hysterical high-pitched giggles. He turned slightly in his chair to not be too obvious, and let his eyes scan the vicinity. He didn’t see anyone he knew or recognized, and then he heard the undeniably deep, familiar, voice.

He turned his head slightly to his left and caught sight of the man behind the voice.

Harry.

Louis had never experienced such a strong, physical, reaction to merely looking at someone.

His stomach churned violently, tiny pin pricks poked at the expanse of his body, his eyes burned as he blinked back tears, his voice lodged itself in his throat, and his bones turned frigid and unmoving.

The purple bruises that once made a home underneath Harry’s eyes, were replaced by well rested, glistening, skin. The curls that once barely reached his shoulders, were now long enough to be thrown in an elegant bun on top of his head. His once slightly toned arms were now visibly bulging from his too tight button down.

And the spot on his lap that Louis once occupied, was taken by another. And the dimples in his cheeks that were once an effect of Louis, were now an effect of soft kisses being pressed into his neck, by someone other than him.

Harry looked happy.

Harry looked healthy.

The immense pain he was experiencing wasn’t enough to tear his eyes away. Four years of flipping through outdated polaroids, did no justice to the sight in front of him. He allowed his eyes to trace the curve of his lips, down to the soft stubble dusting his chin, and back up to the deep green eyes he missed so much.

He was so lost in studying his features he hardly registered the visible hitch in breath Harry took as his eyes met Louis’.

Harry shoved the lad off his lap like he’d burned him and his face contorted into sorrow. His eyes became glassy and his lips were slightly parted. The both of them were unmoving and unblinking, and Louis felt one stray tear leak from the corner of his eye, down to the apple of his cheek. Harry’s emotions matched his as his eyes filled to the brim and nearly spilled over.

Louis couldn’t bare to look at the scene in front of him any longer.

He quickly slid out of his chair and pushed his way through the thick crowd until he reached the door. Fresh air filled his lungs and he tried desperately to catch his breath. He peeked over his shoulder and saw Harry calling out for him as he shoved his way through the crowd.

He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t.

So he ran.

Ran down the sidewalk crawling with pedestrians. Ignored the constant calling of his name, and swallowed down the nausea quickly catching up with him.

He slowed to a stop on the side of the road waving down just one empty cab in this God forsaken city. He felt Harry approaching with his long strides and undying motivation to be heard.

A beat up yellow cab pulled up and Louis choked out a sob of relief. He quickly stuffed his body in the back seat and slammed the back door shut.

He begged and begged for the man to drive, but it was too late when Harry’s ring clad hands slammed against the glass. His fingers were shaking and his lips trembled dangerously. He pleaded against the glass of the window, deep voice seeping through the barrier of the car, and tear tracks staining his cheeks.

The damn inside of Louis broke as he brought his knees to his chest and sobbed out four years worth of pent up misery. He brought his hand up to the glass where Harry’s was still shaking. He whispered out the address to his apartment, and what sounded like an apology to the driver, was actually directed toward Harry.

The vehicle slowly pulled into motion and Louis blew him one last kiss from the back seat. Harry’s hand dragged against the window as the car departed from him and Louis’ sobs increased, as the distance put between them, did the same.

  
\--


	8. Twenty-six, East Village

Louis spent the past year and a half immersing himself in his art.

He quit his cashier position at the dead end art store and made all of his cash selling cliche paintings of the New York City skyline, and the occasional free hand drawing, if someone paid him enough, in Central Park. It was a tourist heavy area and tourist were always ready to spend.

He got in touch with his former Pratt professors and used their contacts to organize several meetings, over the course of three months, convincing Galleries all over the city, that his art and passion were deserving of their own showing.

It took a ton of hard work, tough criticisms, and proving himself worthy, but eventually he won over his first Gallery.

His collection was titled _The Emotions_ , made up of seventeen paintings, varying in size, and all followed the same realism theme, with abstract brush strokes strewn across the model’s features.

And yes, the model in each painting was none other, than Harry Styles. It’s possible a stranger wouldn’t be able to tell these were all the same person, but Louis knew.

Most canvases were close ups of his face, intimate full frontals, and highly detailed paintings of his hands, all done by memory, and all partially destroyed by harsh strokes of muted colors.

But the one that sealed the deal for him, was an eight by six foot, massive [painting](http://saimg-a.akamaihd.net/saatchi/739016/art/2841515/1911408-LVZEYDEJ-7.jpg), of Harry’s lips.

Louis' favorite and most treasured feature.

The size alone spoke volumes of his undeniable sentiment, the attention to detail within the blending of his lip shade made for certain that there was an endless amount of love stories to be told about the man behind the lips, and the strokes and smattering of color swiped across his face made for certain they weren’t all happily ever after.

Each color and stroke against the canvas had deep meaning no one could or would ever be able to figure out, but leaving it up to interpretation sparked enough conversation to convince the Gallery, Louis Tomlinson was deserving of his own showing.

It didn’t take long to plan. Louis had a vision and the Gallery owner believed in it. Press and reviewers were called and guests were invited. Louis spoke to the crowd about his driving theme and melted the ice cold hearts of many. Vulnerability was always an easy way to win a crowd over, and Louis completely opened himself up to that.

Nothing sold that night, seeing as he was brand new to the scene, and hadn’t earned any credibility yet, but he didn’t obtain a defeated attitude. He continued onto his next projects, thought of the next steps he would take, and continued to better himself.

Come the following Monday morning, one single review from the New York Times, sent his profits flying.

The journalist’s words were glowing, and the strategically pulled quotes straight from Louis’ mouth, opened up his vulnerability, and story, for the public to read about, and relate to. His phone rang off the hook, his emails began to pile up, and the mediocre website he put up, saw the most traffic since it’s birth.

Louis quickly put sixteen out of seventeen pieces from The Emotions up for sale. The one exception being the massive painting of Harry’s lips. He wanted that one to be hung and knew it was a realistic goal.

Every piece sold. Prices ranged from three hundred dollars, to his highest ever, four thousand. Louis had never made so much money, so quickly, in his life, and he could finally spend one day not breaking his back to make a buck.

Press surrounding his name and his work was nothing but positive and intrigued. Buzz surrounding the one painting he decided to not sell never died down, which drove up the general public’s interest, which increased value, and piqued the interest of local museums.

Louis was approached by multiple art dealers, all with incredible offers, and guaranteed space on their walls, but there was one museum in particular, he was holding out for. The one museum where he had to approach them.

The Museum of Modern Art.

He met with the Gallery owner he presented for nearly a month ago and wagered a deal for Louis to give him a cut of his profits for future showings in turn for a personal referral to the museums dealers and Curators.

The owner was taking a major risk on Louis, but for reasons Louis will never know, he saw something in his work, and was willing to put his reputation on the line, and assist Louis with his potential success.

They met with art dealers, that led to more gallery owners, that eventually led to Chief Curator of Paintings and Sculptures. Personal referrals got him up to this point, but Louis himself was the one to determine the outcome.

He presented his art and discussed his piece intellectually. He supplied positive feedback and press that continuously buzzed around his showings and answered every single question thrown at him with confidence and poise. It was the hardest fucking meeting of his life but he never let it show.

The Chief Curator didn’t make it easy by any means, but decided to take Louis’ art to the board of directors, and that meeting made the last feel like a breeze.

He endured an hour of next level criticisms, and a ridiculous amount of scrutiny, but he didn’t falter, and he proved why his art deserved to have a spot in their museum, and eventually, they took him on.

At 26 years old, Louis Tomlinson’s painting was hung in the Museum of Modern Art in New York City, the capital of the world, and the way he accomplished it was absolutely and totally unheard of. He was quite literally one of a kind, and the value of his work skyrocketed to unfathomable heights.

Louis accomplished a life goal. And Harry’s legacy lived on for art critics, historians, and admirers, from around the world, to see, experience, and inevitably, fall in love with. 

  
\--


	9. Twenty-eight, Brooklyn

“Louis!” Liam yelled over Louis’ blaring music and banged on the shut door.

Over the past two years, the two of them have invested their money in their own art store, located a block away from their alma mater, Pratt. After Louis’ art career took off he needed a way to invest his money wisely, and keep living modestly, so he approached Liam with a business plan and location, and they’ve been successful ever since.

Technically, they were roommates, the art store came with a two bedroom apartment on the level above, and it was included in the business’ rent, but Liam only spent his days in the shop, and would take a train to Manhattan to be with his long time girlfriend.

Louis didn’t mind being alone, he was even able to turn Liam’s room into his own studio, and having a spacious apartment to himself, was kinda nice.

“LOUIS!” Liam burst through the door slightly starling Louis out of his impassioned focus on the canvas before him. Liam paused the music playing on Louis’ vintage tape player, that was plugged into surround sound speakers, “Mate, how are you not deaf by now?”

“What?” Louis cupped his ear sarcastically and set his brush in his water cup.

“Piss off. Your phone has been ringing nonstop for the past ten minutes, I thought you’d like to know.”

“Well bloody hell Liam, why didn’t you bring it to me after the first missed call?”

“I was counting inventory, you know, what you promised you’d do over a week ago?”

“Oh,” Louis bit his lip and put on his best puppy dog eyes, “I’m sorr—“

“Save it,” Liam dipped his pinkie in the palette and dotted royal blue onto Louis’ nose, “I put your phone on the living room table, I’ll be downstairs, and you better be down in ten to help me.” he gave Louis a pointed stare and swiped the rest of his pinkie across Louis’ cheek before quickly skipping out of the room.

Thankfully these oils were non toxic.

He grabbed a damp cloth wiping his fingers and face down before exiting the room and dropping down on his couch. He stretched his arm as far as he could to avoid moving from his comfortable position.

He unlocked his phone to a string of missed calls from the same unfamiliar number. Before he could check to see if there was an impending voicemail, his phone began to ring again.

“Louis Tomlinson,” he always felt like a prick for answering that way, but it sounded far more professional when clients or city leaders would call for commissions.

“Hello, Mr. Tomlinson,” a female voice came softly over the line, “I was directed to this number by the Museum of Modern Art to discuss commissions?”

“Yes, absolutely. How can I be of service to you?”

“Well, it’s actually for my boss. He’s been a fan of your work for quite some time, and he’s moving into his new Loft in Tribeca, in a matter of weeks, and has specifically requested that all decor on the walls be Louis Tomlinson originals."

Louis bit back a scoff. It was still so strange to hear people speak of him in that way.

“I would be honored.” even if he didn’t know who the bloke was.

“Fantastic! He’s expressed that he wishes to remain anonymous until the two of you meet in person and discuss the projects, which he also expressed he would like to do as soon as possible."

“How soon? Later this week? Or a week from now...”

“He was actually hoping for later today…” she said with a bit of hesitancy.

Well, shit. This guy was eager.

“Alright…” he considered the rest of his day. He would definitely need to help out Liam with the shop, but after that he was only going to get some takeout, and organize his studio, “I can do anytime after six.”

“Perfect! Should I arrange for a car to pick you up?”

“Um, no thank you, that won’t be necessary, but if you could please send the location details to my email, that would be a massive help.”

The two of the exchanged emails and Louis thanked her before hanging up.

He let his phone rest on his chest and tried not to fill his mind with expectations for this meeting. Ten minutes have long since passed, and he was sure Liam would give him shit for it, but another five minutes of procrastination never hurt anyone.

  
\--

  
Louis stepped out of the cab and smoothed out the wrinkles of his fitted jacket. He caught a quick glance of himself in the retreating car, and was happy to see that his hair was still halfway brushed off his forehead, and the strands framing his face hadn’t moved an inch.

He liked to look the part of a serious artist, even though he mostly painted in his pants, and danced around to 90’s pop music.

He walked halfway down the block to the address he was sent in his email. He was told specifically to take the elevator up to the seventeenth floor and give the hostess at the door his name. He guessed it was some sort of exclusive bar or restaurant that was by invite only.

He tapped his foot patiently on his elevator ride up and clutched his sketch book and pencil to his chest. The doors slid open revealing a young woman behind a podium in front of two cherry wood doors.

“Good evening,” she greeted with a pearly white smile, “Name please?”

Louis nearly forgot his name for a second. Too interested in this secret corner of the city he’s stumbled upon, “Tomlinson. Louis Tomlinson.”

“Of course. Right this way.”

She led him through the wooden doors, passed the ridiculously upscale bar, and out onto a private patio, set with one table, two chairs, and a gorgeous view of the bay. The setting sun twinkled across the horizon and the cozy atmosphere made him quirk an eyebrow.

Was this a date or a business meeting?

“Your party will be joining you shortly. Can I get you anything until then?” the woman asked.

“No, I’m fine, thank you.” he gave her a small smile.

The woman nodded and retreated back indoors.

Louis allowed himself to soak in the stunning view in front of him.

He didn’t always have nice things to say about New York, but moments like these, when it’s true beauty was showcased, he made room in his heart for the place that he now considered home.

He stepped up to the railing and inhaled deeply when the light breeze brushed against his face. The city beneath him continued to bustle around, but up this high, Louis felt like life paused for a second. Everything was calmer.

He heard the door open behind him and he turned to check if it was the anonymous commissioner or not.

When his eyes met the other man’s his stomach dropped.

Harry.

Clean shaven face, fitted suit probably worth more than his next months rent, tie loosened, button down halfway open, a collection of rings decorating his long fingers, and his hair chopped short, perfectly slicked back on top of his head.

He looked…hot. Fuck.

“Sorry I’m late,” he smirked at Louis half shocked half turned on state, “Was held up at the firm.”

There was nowhere for Louis to run. He couldn’t run through the doors of the establishment and he couldn’t fling himself off the building.

He would finally have to face Harry. Once and for all.

“What happened to your hair,” he blurted out. Ugh. How fucking rude of him, “I mean—Sorry, um. Don’t worry about it. I, uh, haven’t been here long.” he gave a weak smile and stiffened as Harry approached closer.

“Ah,” he stepped up to the railing a few feet away from Louis, “I remember the first time I saw this view. S’nice innit?”

Louis was still frozen to his spot half turned away from the view and eyes locked on Harry’s ridiculously handsome profile. When did his jaw become so defined?

He must have zoned out for too long when Harry directed his eyes towards him and gave him a soft smile.

And Louis almost fell for it. Almost swallowed up the romantic atmosphere, and almost let those green eyes reel him in.

“You didn’t want one of my paintings after all, did you?”

“No, Lou—“

“Louis.” he bit out.

“Sorry,” he bit his lip regretfully, “Of course I want one of your paintings, multiple even. I’m more than willing to pay top dollar for each, but you would have never agreed to meet, had you known it was me.”

Which was probably true, but he doesn’t get to decide that for him.

“Please don’t presume things about me. You don’t exactly know me, or how I operate, and it’s a little offensive to my character, that you had to come up with a grand scheme, just to get me up here.” he had no idea where all the pent up anger was coming from but he hoped this was the last of it. He hated talking to anyone this way.

Especially Harry.

“I’m...I just,” Harry paused and searched for the right words to say, “I’m sorry, Louis. You’re right. This was a stupid idea,” he sighed and shook his head in embarrassment. A few strands of hair sprung out of his slicked back hairstyle and Louis’ mouth unintentionally watered. Dammit, he looked good, “We can just sit and talk about the idea’s I have, and we’ll discuss price, and you can be on your way. I’m sorry."

Louis stared into his eyes for a minute. There was a hint of desperation in the shine of them, but he could also tell Harry was genuinely sorry for bringing him up here this way, and possibly for a lot more.

He walked over to the table and dropped his sketch book on the glass surface, “Shall we?"

Harry nodded and quickly took his seat at the other end of the table.

Louis nearly missed the whispered _thank you_.

  
\--

  
“So,” Louis shut his sketch book filled with rough ideas and estimates of what Harry has requested, “A Loft in Tribeca, yeah?” he raised an impressed eyebrow and gave a toothy smile when Harry became bashful.

Unsurprisingly, it didn’t take the two of them longer than five minutes to get on with each other. It was like the past eight years didn’t happen and and their banter was still at best friend caliber.

“Yeah, yeah,” he leaned back in his chair and ran a hand through his short locks, “Honestly if you asked me to picture my life at twenty eight, when I was seventeen, I would not imagine this."

Louis wouldn’t either. Not with what he witnessed in their early twenties.

“How is life, by the way. Haven’t caught up with you in nearly a decade.” the words felt like ice picks to his skin but he smiled through them anyway.

“Well,” he lightly chuckled and shook his head, “It’s amazing now, but it was like living through hell to get here.”

Louis felt a pain in his chest knowing Harry was skirting around the topic, “I’m sorry.” he whispered sheepishly.

“No, no, Lou,” he leaned up in his chair and Louis didn’t reject the familiar nickname, “You have nothing to be sorry for, okay?”

Harry seemed to stare right into his soul and Louis slightly curled in on himself not saying anything. He would never feel ready enough to discuss everything that happened between them, and he would never feel ready to relive, and rehash everything they went through, but he did owe it to Harry, and there was a plethora of things he was sorry for.

“I have plenty to be sorry for, H—“

Louis was cut off by Harry pushing out of his chair and bringing it to sit directly adjacent to him.

Harry’s fresh scent was intoxicating and the closer he moved to him the faster Louis’ heart beat. Louis remained seated, unmoving, and completely enamored in the sight beside him.

He hasn’t been this close to Harry in ages. His skin looked soft to the touch, his eyebrows groomed into a perfect arch, lips pink and sinful, and his hair was practically begging Louis to run his fingers through it.

He was brought out of his trance when he felt Harry hesitantly take Louis’ hand in his. The touch was like an electric shock and his entire body tensed at the innocent gesture.

“I think now is as good time as any to get everything out on the table. Is that okay?” he inquired softly and ran a soothing thumb over Louis’ rapid pulse point on his wrist.

“Um,” he rasped out still unsure of how this would all play out, “Yeah. I’m okay with it.” he gave Harry a watery smile and tried his best not to well up before he started.

“You don’t have anywhere to be right? I want to start from the beginning and it may take a while.” he laughed lightly.

Louis shook his head and finally relaxed his hand that was engulfed by both of Harry’s, “I have time.” he spoke gently encouraging Harry to carry on.

“Okay,” he squeezed Louis’ hand and made himself more comfortable, “I, um, I hope you don’t take this the wrong way, and I’m sorry if it comes off prickish, but before I say anything, I just wanted to thank you for leaving me when you did.”

The words slammed into Louis chest causing him to physically wince.

“The night you left, I did plan on drinking with the guys, and I did plan on stumbling through the door, knowing you’d be there to clean up the mess, and fuss with me long enough until I’d fall into fitful sleep, but the whole cab ride I just replayed your pleas from the window, and it just put me in such a dark place, like…”

He cut himself off with a lump in his throat. The crease between his eyebrows deepened and he shifted his eyes away from Louis’. Louis brought his other hand to brush gently over Harry’s knuckles and let him take all the time he needed to regroup.

“It was like, a part of me knew what I was doing to you was wrong, and I hated myself for it, and I still struggle with that guilt today, but my addiction just took over every sense of right and wrong, and tortured me until I gave in to what it wanted.

“I’m glad and so grateful that you got yourself out of there while you still could. I was a right mess, and was so horrible to you. Who knows how much worse things could’ve got if—“ he choked off a sob and hid his face into his shoulder.

Louis continued to caress his thumbs over Harry’s knuckles as Harry’s shoulders shook silently. The sun had completely set around him and the only noise this high in the sky were the soft sniffles coming from Harry.

“Take your time, babe,” Louis encouraged through a thick voice, “It’s tough. I get it.”

Harry withdrew one of his hands and wiped at the tear tracks on his cheeks, “I’m sorry, it’s just—I’ve been rehearsing this moment in my head for eight years, and it’s just harder than I ever expected.” his voice cracked as he ended his sentence.

The two of them sat there in silence and Louis rubbed up and down Harry’s arm in a comforting way. A chilly breeze crept up on them and even with a jacket on Louis still shivered underneath. Harry stood and removed his jacket, wordlessly draping it over Louis’ shaking shoulders.

He sighed deeply and went back to his seat. This time he laced his own hands together, and Louis already missed his touch, but the scent of Harry's jacket, that practically swallowed him, would be enough for now.

“When I got home that night, I tore up the place looking for you, or even just traces of you. I honestly thought I was hallucinating. It was like living in another dimension where it was me without you and my drunken mind couldn’t handle it. I woke up all the neighbors asking if they’d seen you. I…I genuinely lost it. I couldn’t handle being in a world where you weren’t there for me, waiting on me hand and foot, and basically, keeping me alive.

“I drank myself to sleep that night and I didn’t wake up again until my mother was shaking me awake almost a day later. She packed all of my things and convinced me to go see someone about my addiction back in Cheshire.”

Louis was biting down hard on his lip to distract himself from the pain in his heart. He felt unbelievably guilty for leaving and causing Harry to go through it all alone.

“I don’t ever want you to feel like any of it was your fault,” he took Louis’ hands in his again and looked him directly in the eye, “I was not well, and I was very manipulative back then, and every time I expected you to wait up for me, and put me to bed, was unfathomably selfish, and there’s no reason why you should have ever had that burden on your shoulders at twenty years old.

“I still struggle with forgiving myself for everything I put you through. You didn’t deserve any of that. You deserved someone that was your equal, someone who didn’t pull you down into the gutter with them, someone—“

“Harry, love,” he had begun to sob again. Louis took his comforting touches a step further, and took Harry’s face between his hands, and wiped away the stream of tears spilling over, “You were ill, Harry. I don’t blame _you_ or hold a grudge against _you_.”

“I’m so sorry,” Harry’s chin quivered as he spoke and he buried himself into Louis’ neck, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so, so sorry, Louis.”

Harry completely broke down in Louis’ arms. Chest and back heaving, hot puffs of air coming from his broken sobs, and tears soaking through the material of the jacket. Louis couldn’t help but let his own tears silently roll. He hugged Harry close and let his sadness seep into Harry’s crisp, white, button down.

The soft hum of the city buzzed beneath them as they both unloaded years worth of tears each. Louis scratched at the base of Harry’s neck and whimpered softly into the night. Harry’s breathing hitched as he hiccuped through the pain and his sobs hushed into sharp intakes of breath.

Louis was glad the patio was so private and wondered how Harry got it to be just the two of them for the amount of time they’ve been here. But, above all, he was grateful that they were able to share this moment. It was much needed.

Each tear and hitch of breath was a weight lifted and a loose end tied.

Eventually the soft scratches to Harry’s scalp calmed him down enough to separate from Louis. He reached for the pocket square in his jacked still draped across Louis’ shoulders, and patted gently under Louis’ eyes.

They both burst into soft giggles at the unexpected movement and Louis took the piece of cloth from Harry and repeated it onto him.

“I forgive you, you know, for everything,” Louis spoke slowly and deliberately, “And there wasn’t a day that went by that I didn’t think about you, or what I could’ve done differently. I think it was just a bit much for both of us traveling to this seemingly new world and getting involved with what we did.”

Harry nodded his head in agreement and sniffed back any remaining emotion.

“I do want to apologize though. Leaving in the middle of the night was equally as selfish and I’m so sorry for the pain it caused you.”

Harry looked up at him through his wet lashes and shrugged his shoulder, “It was tough then, but looking back, it was what we needed. And I forgive you.”

Louis smiled back at him and felt unbelievably proud. To be able to fully forgive like that just went to show how much Harry has grown, and just how strong of a person he is.

“I’ve also always wanted to apologize for running away from you a few years back, d’you remember that?”

Harry laughed and nodded his head, “Yeah, not our finest moment.”

“I’m sorry,” he cringed at the slightly embarrassing memory, “I was just stunned and wasn’t exactly ready to face you yet. I was literally dumped that same night because I still wasn’t over you, and then to see you there with…” he trailed off hoping Harry would understand.

“Oh, right,” realization hit him, “If it’s any consolation, I was dumped that same night for the same reason. You can’t exactly push your then boyfriend off your lap to go chase down another man.”

The two of them laughed like they weren’t just sobbing into each other a few minutes ago, but the air was lighter, and the feeling between them wasn’t filled with regret or sadness anymore.

“I, um, I saw your painting in the MoMA.” Harry wiggled his eyebrows and Louis blushed, “I knew you’d make it there someday. Always believed you would.”

“Thank you,” he looked down at his hands bashfully, “Do you…know?”

“Know what,” he asked before it dawned on him, “Oh. That it’s of me?”

Louis nodded his head and bit at his cheek.

“I mean, I didn’t want to believe it was because if I was wrong then I’d feel like a knob, but I visited it more than once, and pretty soon there was just no denying it,” Louis nodded his head feeling slightly exposed, “My, um, my sorta boyfriend, pointed out how the lips kind of looked like mine.”

Louis’ stomach tightened.

What the fuck? That was the worst transition in history.

“You took your ‘sorta boyfriend’, to see a painting of you, painted by me?” Harry nodded a bit uncomfortably, “And does he know?”

“No,” he waved his hands in surrender, “We’ve only been casually dating for a few weeks, and he just happened to want to go to the museum, I swear—“

“I’m not mad, H. Just a bit weird to wrap my head around.”

Harry deflated into his seat, “I’m sorry.”

Louis was done with this topic and done entertaining the idea of this sorta boyfriend.

“Don’t be, love. Tell me about your journey to success. What do you do now? How long have you been sober?"

Harry went on to describe his time in Cheshire. How he recovered in the span of ninety days, and how during that time, NYU worked with him, and he was able to take online classes, and apply for law school on time. He finished law school a year early and used that time to buckle down and study for the BAR, which he described as the hardest time of his life.

As he was studying, he was also frequently visiting support groups for young people like him, that were sober, or in the process of becoming it. He worked with a trainer to keep his body as healthy as he could, and took yoga classes to ease his mind.

He has been sober for seven years and nine months, and Louis nearly broke down in tears again because of how proud he was.

“My most recent case was between two multibillion dollar record companies, and I won’t say how much I pocketed in contingency fees, but I’ll just say it was enough to be able to pay for my new home in cash."

Louis was stunned. He knew lawyers could potentially earn a ton of money, but to that amount required years of experience, and knowing exactly what you’re doing. Harry was obviously young but was trusted enough to represent such high profile cases. He must be good. Really fucking good.

“I’m proud of you, Harry. Your success was hard earned but I’m glad you got yourself here.” he felt warm admitting it out loud.

He’s always wanted nothing but the best for Harry and he was beyond ecstatic that life was rewarding him, but just a tiny little part of him was sad that he couldn’t be there with him through all of his accomplishments.

“Thanks, Lou,” he said a bit breathlessly

“Excuse me,” a female voice cut through. It was the same woman who led Louis out here earlier in the day, “I’m sorry to interrupt, but the patio area will be closing in about ten minutes, but the bar will remain open until four.”

“Thank you. We’ll be out of here shortly.” Harry nodded at her and she disappeared behind the doors once more.

“Didn’t realize how long we’ve been out here.” Louis began to stand.

“Hey,” Harry shot up out of his chair to assist Louis out of his, “Um, are you, are you hungry, do you want to grab something to eat?”

Louis reached for his sketch book and pencil and tucked it under his arm, “I’m not terribly hungry. Think I have a few leftovers at home I can pick at.”

“How are you getting home?” Harry asked with some type of urgency.

“Uhh, was just going to take the train, or—“

“Let me take you, well my driver will technically be driving, but I’ll take you home, yeah?”

Louis quirked an eyebrow at his slightly desperate tone, but decided not to comment on it, “You don’t mind driving down to Brooklyn?”

“No, of course not,” he took Louis by the wrist and pushed his chair in, “I’ll text my driver now. It’s not a problem.”

“Well, alright.” didn’t seem like he had much of a choice anyway, “Let’s do it.”

Harry adjusted Louis hand to fit around his obviously flexed bicep as he escorted them indoors.

For one moment, just one small moment, Louis allowed himself to feel the hard muscle in his hand, and imagine what it would be like to be held up by Harry now. He imagined about five hundred different scenarios before his brain caught up with him and reminded him that Harry was _sorta_ taken.

He slowly withdrew his hand when they stopped in front of the elevator and used pushing the down button as an escape route. He clutched both hands to his sketchbook and didn’t dare look in Harry’s direction.

The bell to the elevator dinged and the doors slid open. Louis stepped in first and crowded himself against a corner. Harry followed in shortly and held down the button for the lobby. Louis distracted himself by flipping through the pages of his sketchbook pretending to study over what Harry and him had come up with.

Before he knew it the doors were sliding open to a deserted first floor and Harry led them out of the building with a hand _dangerously_ low on Louis’ back.

Part of Louis wanted to brush it off or move slightly to the side to remove the contact, but an even bigger part of him couldn’t. The touch was magnetic, and the heat from Harry’s massive hand was seeping through the three layers of clothing, warming Louis to the bone.

He wondered if the small touch was torturing Harry as much as it was torturing him. He looked completely unfazed as he checked his phone for his drivers location, and even slid his hand further to curl around Louis’ waist.

“Should be here in two minutes.” he gave Louis’ hip a squeeze but didn’t remove his hand.

 _Fuck it_. Louis thought.

If this was all he was able to have of Harry, this was what he was willing to take. It’s not like this would lead to anything further and to be completely honest, it felt nice having a caring, protective, hand to hold his body.

Louis completely relaxed in his hold and ever so slightly cuddled in closer.

“Oh, there he is, come on, ba—” Harry cut himself off and cleared his throat. He grabbed Louis by the hand and led them to a blacked out SUV.

He nearly called him ‘baby’.

Louis stomach churned in on itself but in a fluttering way instead of an I’m going to be sick way.

This was going to be a long ride home.

  
\--

 

“I think this is where you get off.”

Harry’s low voice broke through Louis’ blissed out trance.

Louis had taken the window seat and Harry wasted no time settling in close. Harry lifted the partition to give the illusion of privacy, wrapped his arm around the back of Louis’ seat, and fixated all of his attention on him.

He forgot how it felt to be the center of Harry’s world and this gentle reminder tugged at his heartstrings. Harry was deeply interested in everything Louis had to say, whether it was about a bulk shipment of pencils sent to his store, or how he paints until sunrise and drifts off still covered in oils.

No matter the topic Harry listened intently and followed the movement of Louis’ lips. It was semi nerve racking and semi alluring not knowing if Harry was going to lean in and steal a kiss or not.

He wasn’t totally against kissing back either.

“Lou,” Harry whispered, “Is this your place?”

Louis tore his half lidded eyes away from Harry and looked out the window to be met with the sight of his red brick store front. Reality settled back into his brain and he sighed knowing this was practically the end.

Louis would create what Harry would pay him for, and Harry will go back to his life, with his unnamed love interest, and Louis would go back to his paints.

“Yeah. This is my stop.” he grabbed his sketchbook and pencil and unbuckled himself from his seat.

He pulled on the door handle and slid halfway out before his wrist was being gently tugged back.

“Wait, um,” Harry stuttered out and the hand wrapped around Louis’ wrist became clammy, “Do you—Can I, maybe, see you again?”

Louis raised an eyebrow but was physically unable to respond. Harry wanted to see him again? In what way? Was that actually a date back there and Louis was unaware? What about Harry’s sorta boyfriend?

“I mean, like, I want us to be friends. I really want us to be able to hang out,” ouch... “I’d love to visit your store someday, and, I don’t know, maybe take a finger painting masterclass with THE Louis Tomlinson himself?”

Louis let out a strained laugh. It was clear Harry did want Louis in his life, but it was evident he only wanted him as a friend.

Louis could handle that right?

They were best friends longer than they were lovers. It wouldn’t be so hard. And, besides, he’d love for Harry to be back in his life. The two of them had plenty to catch up on, and Louis would rather have him this way, than no way at all.

“Sure, Harry. Sounds good,” he withdrew his hand from Harry’s hold and slid the rest of the way out of the car, “Thank you for the ride.”

“Do you want me to walk you up?” Harry offered.

Louis wanted more than anything to have a few extra minutes with just the two of them, but he didn’t want to push his luck, “Think I’ll be alright. Goodnight, H.”

“Goodnight, Lou.” he grinned. Eyes sparkling.

Louis shut the door behind him and watched as Harry’s driver pulled off into traffic.

He felt like he missed him already. A few hours with Harry seemed to dull every other minute without him.

But he knew they would spend more time together and he was looking forward to every last second.

Even if it was just as friends.

 

  
\--


	10. Twenty, Greenwich Village

_Louis shouldered his way through the front door of his and Harry’s apartment, carefully placing his jingling keys on the front table, and making his way towards his room to drop off his arm full of canvases._

_“Oh shit,” he inhaled sharply. He wasn’t used to Harry being home at the same time as him anymore, and seeing his lean body stretched across their bed was a pleasant, yet startling sight, “You’re home early. Were your classes cancelled?” he asked as he placed his pile of canvases on top of multiple others._

_“No, not cancelled, just came straight home.” he spoke in a low tone and absentmindedly traced patterns into the bedsheets._

_“Everything alright?”_

_Harry sat up and crawled towards the end of the bed until he was sat with Louis standing between his legs, “I’m good, baby,” he brought him in closer by the back of his thighs, “Just wanted to spend time with you.”_

_He trailed his fingers up underneath Louis thin shirt and pressed feather light kisses to his tummy. Louis tensed at the tingling feeling Harry’s lips left as he nipped over the expanse of his skin. He held his breath, and bit down on his lip for as long as he could, but a laugh escaped his lips against his will._

_Harry pulled off with a glint in his eyes and tightened his hold on Louis hips. He began to blow raspberries in the same spots and didn’t loosen his grip once. Louis giggled unabashedly and thrashed about in Harry’s hold._

_“Harry s-stop!”_

_Harry blew harder and began to wiggle his fingers into Louis sides, causing Louis to fold over on himself, and gasp desperately for air. He laughed into Harry’s shoulder as Harry continued on with his unexpected tickling, and Louis mentally photographed this moment for when things got rough._

_Harry pulled completely off, laid back, and pulled Louis on top of him._

_“Hi.” Louis whispered with his first genuine smile of the day_

_“Hi,” Harry whispered back and caught Louis lips between his own for a sweet kiss, “Missed you, baby.”_

_Louis insides melted, “Missed you, too,” he kissed Harry’s lips and sat up to straddle his hips, “What do you want to do tonight?”_

_Harry ran his hands up and down Louis’ thighs before sitting up himself and eliminating any space between them, “I’ll do anything,” he wrapped his arms securely around Louis’ waist and left a wet trail of kisses down Louis’ neck, “Just wanna be with you. Just us.”_

_Harry punctuated each sentence with a suck to his neck, making it extremely hard for Louis to think, let alone form coherent sentences._

_“We can, um, we can just stay in for the night, and—fuck—you can help me paint, yeah?”_

_“Mmm,” he released Louis neck from between his lips, “How about I paint you instead?”_

_“Cheeky,” Louis laughed, “I’m not opposed to the idea…”_

_“But…”_

_“My supplies are limited and expensive, babe.”_

_“Well who said anything about using your own supply? I’ve got plenty.” he added with a wink._

_Louis rolled his eyes and slid off of Harry’s lap to walk towards their closet, “Let me change into my apron and we can get started.”_

_\--_

  
_Louis dipped his pointed round paintbrush into the blush tones of his pallet; retouching the delicate areas of his final project of the semester._

_A nude self portrait._

_He sat the curve of his bum comfortably in Harry’s lap and molded his lips to Harry’s whenever another hit was called for. The thick aroma settled in the air, the warm smoke settled in their chests, and the calm aura settled in their home._

_Harry ran his fingertips lazily against Louis’ ribs and pressed his lips gently across the tan skin of Louis’ shoulders. The only fabric between them being Louis’ loosely tied black apron, and the only thing stopping Louis from letting Harry take him right here, is the unfinished canvas before them._

_“You’re so perfect, baby,” Harry deeply rasped into the shell of Louis’ ear, “Not sure how you managed to paint your curves to scale, but you did. Can I keep this one after it’s graded?”_

_Louis giggled through a haze of smoke and dropped his thin brush into his water cup, “Why, is the model in the painting not enough for you?"_

_He meant it in a joking manner but Harry wasn’t laughing._

_“Louis,” he shifted Louis in his lap until he was turned enough to the side to be face to face, “You know you’re everything to me, right?”_

_“Of course I do…”_

_Not even convincing his own ears._

_A look of disappointment clouded over Harry's face. He laced his fingers through Louis’ feathery fringe and nipped gently at Louis’ lips. Time slowed down and each press of their lips was like a single weight being lifted off their shoulders._

_“I’m so sorry, Louis,” Harry drawled out between kisses, “I know I have the shittiest way of showing it, but there is no me without you.”_

_Harry always tended to get deeper in his emotions when his state of mind was altered by weed._

_“I remember when we were still kids, and I realized for the first time, I loved you as more than just a friend. I remember how by our second date I was already locked in, and I knew there was no one else for me, but this sweet boy who had been there for me through my entire life. Through my tantrums as a child, through my awkward teen years, and now through all the hard times we share.”_

_Louis smiled uncomfortably but agreed nonetheless._

_“I know our situation isn’t always roses and sunshine, and I probably don’t deserve all the love you have for me, but I always want you to know that you’re enough. You’re it for me, baby.”_

_Louis shifted his eyes away from Harry’s so he wouldn’t well up in front of him._

_“Hey,” he drew Louis’ chin back to face him by his fingertips, “I love you so much. I love you through every hour of the day and I love you through every sleepless hour of the night. No matter how rough it gets, I’m always going to love you. It’s so deeply rooted within me, Lou._

_"I appreciate everything you do for us and I want to be better for you. And I’m sorry it’s taking me so long to become the man you deserve but I promise you that time will come. I know you believe in me and I want to believe in me too. Just hang in there, yeah?”_

_“Yeah,” he nodded his head vigorously and pressed his lips to Harry’s for a beat too long, “I love you.”_

_“I love you, too. Always will,” he sealed his vow with a kiss, “Always."_

   
\--


	11. Twenty-eight, Brooklyn

Louis stripped out of his clean white shirt and black jeans, and slipped quickly into paint stained shorts, and tied his apron around his waist. It’d been a long day at the shop and he just couldn’t wait to throw himself into his art.

He had a few projects he was working on but he was eager to get started on Harry’s.

Speaking of...

Louis phone lit up where it sat propped against his canvas and he picked it up to answer, “Louis Tomlinson,”

“Oh God,” a deep voice hummed over the line, “Who answers their phone like that anymore?”

“…Harry?”

“Harry Styles,” he imitated flawlessly and laughed under his breath.

“Sorry,” Louis snipped, “That’s just how I answer unsaved numbers.”

“Ouch, Lou. My poor, delicate, ego.” he whined.

“Was there a reason for this call, love? If not I’d love to get started on one of your commissions.”

“Oh, perfect! I was going to ask if you had anything going on tonight,” his tone wavered from playful to shy, “I was just wondering, if, maybe, I could see you? Possibly just bring some takeout over to your place and watch you paint?”

“You want to watch me paint?” Louis’ words dripped disbelief.

“Well, yeah, I’ve missed it,” Louis' heart stuttered in his chest, “Want to see how much you’ve improved."

Louis shyly smiled to himself and pressed a hand to his tingling stomach, “Yeah, alright. You don’t mind that it’s yours?”

“Of course not. Have to make sure I’m getting my money's worth.” he replied with the utmost cheek.

“Goodbye, Harry.”

“Wait! Uh...what should I bring?”

“Surprise me,” he deadpanned, “I’ll be waiting!”

And before Harry could reply he ended the call.

If he blushed at the thought of Harry bringing him dinner, and insisting he wanted to watch Louis paint, there was no way anyone could prove it.

  
\--

  
_Bzzz bzzz_

Louis leapt from his seat in front of his easel, accidentally tipping it over, and sped to his front door to buzz Harry up.

He barely avoided tripping over his own footing to dash into the bathroom and fix his hair in the mirror. He twirled a few pieces around his finger tips to get them to curl in his desired direction and ever so carefully swooped his hair back off his forehead.

He stepped back from the mirror to do a full body check of himself. His shorts rode just high enough up his legs and his apron covered just enough of his upper body to leave the rest up to imagination.

Shit.

Should he put on a shirt?

He wanted to look good for Harry, but was being half naked in front of your ex turned friend, appropriate?

But that’s just how he liked to paint. Being as comfortable and paint stained as possible. Harry would remember that tiny detail…right?

Fuck. He should definitely put a shirt on what was he thinking.

He rushed out of the bathroom, and slid across the slick wooden floors, and nearly made it to his room before three heavy knocks pounded against his door. Shit.

He considered yelling out for Harry to wait for just a moment but decided against it. He was always able to paint half naked in front of Liam and they were close lads, there shouldn’t be much of a difference here, and it’s not like Harry hasn’t seen it all before anyway.

He took long strides to the door and paused in front of it letting his fingers linger over the lock and handle. This was the first time they would spend time alone together in ages and he was slightly jittery with nerves.

He inhaled deeply as he turned his hand to unlock the door and exhaled as he carefully pulled the door open.

Harry’s beautiful face greeted him and his smile beamed brighter the more Louis revealed himself. His short hair was artfully disheveled, his black suit was tailored perfectly to each dip and curve of his body, and the large box of pizza invaded his senses making his appetite grow.

“Hi,” Harry’s silky tone brought Louis out of his obvious once over. Harry wasn’t too better off himself, slightly biting on his lip, and raking his eyes up and down Louis’ body. Louis wished someone was here to confirm if what was happening was actually happening, or if he was just imagining, “I-um. Hope you don’t mind pizza, s’just I haven’t had Brooklyn pizza in a while, and you said to surprise you, so that left the options wide open, but I didn’t want to get something I knew you wouldn’t like, so—“

“Pizza is perfect, Harry, come in.” he gestured his arms toward the inside of his apartment and locked the door behind them.

Harry set the hot food down on the countertop and looked around the apartment, “Nice place. Fits you,” he directed his gaze back towards Louis, “I see you were at least decent enough to throw some shorts on for my arrival.”

Harry chuckled deeply and Louis face turned a fair shade of pink, “I’ll go cover up. I’m sorr—"

“No, Lou, I’m joking,” he caught Louis’ wrist and and smiled down at him, “You’re in your own home, and I remember how you prefer to work.” he reasoned with a cheeky wink.

“Oh god,” Louis cheeks heat up even more and he moved past Harry to avoid being further flushed, “I’ll get the plates and water. Meet you in the first room to your right, down the hall.”

“Sounds good.” Harry grinned grabbing the box of food and walked down the hallway into Louis’ studio.

Fuck. This was going to be so much harder than he anticipated.

Here Harry was looking like royalty, and each dazzling smile, and flutter of lashes, was driving Louis mad. And his lips, God his lips, Louis could never imagine a day without lusting after the press of those sweet as honey, pink, lips against his own.

He needed to get a fucking grip.

He shook himself as he grabbed two plates and filled two glasses with filtered water. He paced himself as he walked down the hall and entered into his studio.

“Harry…”

Harry peeked over his shoulder guiltily with a mouthful of pizza, “M’sorry,” he mumbled out slightly laughing as he swallowed down his food, “It’s been a long day and I’m famished.”

Louis shook his head at Harry’s apologetic stare and sat the plates and drinks down on the table in front of his deteriorating corduroy couch.

“Sorry my couch is a bit ugly, but I promise the paint stains are dry, and it’s clean, for the most part.”

Harry moved toward the middle of the room and laid his body out across the couch, “Mind if I get comfortable?”

Louis shrugged his shoulders and instantly regretted giving permission. Harry slid off his shoes and reached a long slender hand down towards his belt.

Louis forced himself to turn away from the torturous scene and move himself over to the easel with Harry’s current project on it. He heard Harry breathe a sigh of relief behind him and was glad he wasn’t able to see what was going on.

“Louuuu,” Harry dragged out with his deep voice, “You’re too far.”

Louis bit down hard on the smile that was creeping up on him. The feeling of Harry wanting him closer was something he forgot he _could_ feel, and that sent a rush of want over his skin.

He picked up his brushes, paints, and easel, and set up beside the old couch. It seemed to not satisfy Harry enough seeing as he pushed the coffee table aside and tugged Louis’ apron to position him right in his line of vision.

“Best seat in the house,” he ripped off a bite of his pizza as he loosened his tie and undid the first three buttons of his crisp shirt, “How was your day?”

Louis picked up a detail brush to sketch out his work, “A bit uneventful. I had to actually work at the store today. A few kids from Pratt recognized me, which is always such a weird feeling, but other than that nothing exciting,” he paused and turned towards Harry only to catch him with his eyes lower on Louis’ back, “Until you got here.”

Harry’s eyes met Louis’ and Harry blushed, “You were excited to see me?”

“Of course.” he answered curtly and went back to drafting the canvas in front of him.

He felt like he was giving himself away. Letting Harry know that he’d made his way into his mind and had him anticipating his arrival.

“That’s nice to hear,” Harry spoke slowly behind him, “I’ve been thinking about asking you all week, but couldn’t work up the courage. I honestly thought you’d say no.”

Louis bent over to drop his thin brush into his dirty water cup, and picked up a thicker one, “What made you think that?”

“I’m not sure,” Harry slowly chewed on his bite as he thought of what he wanted to say, “I guess I just feel like this new friendship from you is undeserved?” he swallowed, “Like, I don’t know, I just feel like you’re well off already, and you might feel like I’m pushing you into this.”

Louis turned around and placed a reassuring hand to Harry’s broad shoulder, “You aren’t pushing me into anything. I love having you in my life, Harry, we were best friends for so long. I’d love it if we could have that back.”

He didn’t mention the part of him wanting to have their entire relationship back, but it was probably for their own good.

Harry smiled weakly and brought a hand to pat against Louis’ on his shoulder, “Thanks. I’d really like that too.”

Louis ruffled his hand through Harry’s short locks eliciting a laugh from the both of them. He turned back to the painting in front of him and got to work, “So…your hair.”

“Can’t have ten inches of curls to hide behind in a law firm unfortunately. Do you not like it?”

Um. He fucking loved it. Wanted to run his hands through it, tug on it, lazily scratch at it until they fell asleep.

“No, it looks nice,” he settled on, “I like the whole slicked back look.”

“Thanks, Lou. I really hated it at first but people started to take me more seriously so I kept it.”

“If it makes you feel better, I would’ve taken you seriously with or without the curls.”

The two of them laughed quietly and comfortable silence settled around them. Usually, Louis would be dancing around to music at deafening levels, and bringing the canvas before him to life, but this easy silence was a nice alternative. He loved knowing Harry’s eyes were on him and he loved knowing they didn’t have to force conversation.

It all felt…secure.

“You’re not going to eat, love?” Harry asked. Hearing the pet name easily slip from his mouth caused Louis brush to stutter in his hold.

“No, I will.” he squeaked out.

“Here,” he stood up and grabbed Louis’ plate and a slice of pizza, “I’ll feed you so your work won’t be interrupted.”

He grabbed the slice and wafted it underneath Louis’ nose. Louis slightly leaned away and tensed when his bare shoulders met Harry’s chest. Harry didn’t stop the prodding of the pizza and most likely didn’t even notice Louis’ body gently pressing against his.

Louis huffed out a laugh and ripped off a hefty bite, “There we go! Look at that teamwork.” Harry giggled out and set the slice back down.

“Thanks.” Louis said through a giant mouth full.

Harry hummed out a laugh and went to stand directly behind Louis. His body heat radiated off of him and caressed its way down the curve of Louis’ naked spine. Louis shivered at the feeling of Harry leaning in closer.

“Which one is this one,” his deep rasp rang crisply against the shell of Louis’ ear.

Louis’ eyes fluttered shut and hoped Harry couldn’t see just how easily he affected him, “This one will go in your guest room. Th-the cliche one of the skyline.” he weakly joked trying to ease his mind from Harry’s presence.

“It won’t be cliche,” he backed up and rested a searing hand on Louis’ lower back, “I gave you all the creative freedom an artist could ask for,” he hooked his chin over Louis’ shoulder, “Make it your own.”

There was a breath halting moment where instinct almost took over. His lips nearly moved in on their own and sealed the space between them. Instead he nodded his head slightly and dipped his thick, flat, brush into the black oil, and dragged it across his entire canvas.

Harry cackled loudly in his ear and wrapped his arms around Louis’ waist briefly, “Now why did you go and do that?”

“A better idea came along. What I had before was just a sketch anyway,” he dipped back into the black and offered the brush to Harry, “Wanna help?”

Harry took the brush between his fingers and before Louis could squeeze his way out from in front of the canvas, Harry gripped his hip firmly, and pressed in closer.

Louis was dying. Actually, genuinely, dying.

His heart pounded against his ribs and those pesky butterflies escaped from his stomach and fluttered across his entire body. Luckily, his apron was the one layer between Louis’ skin and Harry’s hand, and Harry wasn’t able to feel his body tremble beneath his touch.

He breathed as evenly as possible as Harry evenly coated the canvas in black paint, “You’re a natural.”

Harry laughed through his nose and directed his gaze at Louis, “Don’t take the piss.” he squeezed Louis’ hip.

“I would never,” he slightly lifted his shoulder, where Harry’s immaculate jaw line was resting, and turned to face him, “Your use of paint isn’t too much or too little, the canvas is nice and wet...your strokes are long and even.”

And Harry lost it.

He buried his head in Louis’ chest and had the laugh of his life. Loud cackles and sharp heaving. Louis should’ve known better, that even the slightest innuendo, would send Harry into a fit of laughter.

Louis didn’t find it as funny, but Harry’s obnoxious laughter was enough to get his giggles going.

They laughed into each other and Harry wrapped his arms around Louis waist and leaned all of his laughing weight into him.

“H-Harry! You’re going to get paint all over me!”

Harry’s chuckles quickly cut off and pulled Louis away from the wet canvas and into his chest. The air between them was electrified and Louis was physically unable to move. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from Harry’s and he couldn’t help the shortness of breath he was experiencing.

It had been so long since he was this close to Harry. It felt new and exciting, yet comfortable and familiar. Like a hurricane spinning inside of him, yet living in the eye of the storm. He wanted to kiss him. He wanted the lips he’s known all his life to press into his own and revive what they once had.

He was brought out of his own mind when he felt wet bristles stroke over his pounding heart.

“Oops.” Harry whispered with a satisfied smirk.

Louis looked down at his chest and was met with a bold, black, ‘H’ painted against his chest. He could get into how metaphorically deep it was for him to paint an H over his heart, but instead he dipped his finger into the same black, and quickly marked an ‘L’ across Harry’s forehead, successfully paying him back.

“Oops.” he mimicked shrugging his shoulders.

“You little shit,” Harry laughed, and dragged Louis over to the corner of the couch, where he sat beside him, and hovered in close, “God I’ve missed you.”

The words shifted the atmosphere into something heavier. A thick cloud of longing and desire was suffocating the both of them.

“I’ve missed—“

A shrill ring from Harry’s pocket interrupted Louis’ words and Harry pulled it out apologetically.

“Shit,” he cursed under his breath, “I’m so sorry, love. Do you mind if I take this?”

“No, no, go for it. I’ll be here.”

Harry squeezed Louis’ knee and briskly walked out of the room.

Louis didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but the walls were paper thin, and Harry only went as far as the other side of the door.

“Hey, hon,” Louis heart sank. Reality hit him over the head with a fucking sledgehammer and the lust filled mood was shattered, “No, no, just met an old friend for dinner in Brooklyn.”

Christ that fucking word had a sting to it.

He refused to listen to any more of the conversation. He stepped over to the window, lifted it open, and slipped out onto his fire escape. The cool air brushed against his heated skin and the sounds of cabs and cars around him flooded out the sound of Harry’s voice.

How could he have been so naive? He knew Harry was unavailable and he knew Harry only wanted him as a friend...but do friends stand that close? Do friends giggle into each other and leave lingering touches against the bareness of one another’s skin?

Do friends still have a dim, yet burning, flame between them? Does one friend remain in love with the other hopelessly, as the other lives a prosperous life without them?

Louis pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes and resisted the urge to claw at his hair. He knew going in, Harry wanted to be friends, and he was willing to give him that. He would just have to be more careful.

“Lou?” a familiar voice came through the room.

Louis ducked his head in the window and saw Liam standing in the middle of the room, and why not throw him into this fucked up mix?

“Why is Harry Styles in our living room?” Liam asked genuinely confused, “and why are you half naked on the fire escape…why is there an H on your chest?”

Louis huffed out a frustrated sigh and crawled back through the window. Harry sheepishly poked his head through the door and smiled when he caught sight of Louis.

“Harry was just leaving actually,” he addressed Liam and didn’t miss the look of hurt flash across Harry’s face, “He just came to check on a commissioned piece.”

Liam looked suspiciously between them and Jesus Christ this was awkward as hell, “He commissioned you? I didn’t even know you two still spoke?”

“I, um, I’ll just be on my way. Lou, it was so nice seeing you,” he looked ridiculous in his work suit with a giant L painted onto his forehead, but Louis still wanted to pull him in by the lapels, and kiss him, “Liam, would you mind walking me out? There’s some things I should properly apologize for, but now is as good time as any to get a head start.”

Liam directed his gaze to Louis and Louis offered nothing but a blank stare. He couldn’t make that decision for him.

“Sure,” he spoke unsurely, “I’ll meet you out front.”

He raised on last suspicious eyebrow at Louis before slowly backing out of the room.

And then there were two.

Harry walked over to the couch, slipped his shoes on, slid and buckled his belt back on, and fixed his shirt and tie back around his neck. Louis sat with his arms crossed around his midsection and tried his best not to itch at the drying paint on his chest.

Harry invaded his space once more and cupped a hand around Louis’ elbow, “Everything alright?”

No.

Louis nodded his head mutely and curled his fingers into his sides.

Harry wasn’t buying it, “Was I—Did I make you uncomfortable?”

Louis shook his head and uncurled his arms from around his body and slid them around Harry’s neck, “You were perfect. Everything’s perfect. It was so lovely seeing you.”

“Louis...” Harry sighed out. He studied Louis face for a moment and carefully brought his hands to fit around Louis’ waist.

Louis quickly leaned in and hugged him tightly before pulling him towards the front door.

“Shouldn’t keep Liam waiting. He probably has a train to catch.” he reached for the door handle only to be stopped by Harry’s hand.

“You know you can talk to me, yeah? If something’s bothering you I wanna know.” he stared deeply into Louis’ eyes and squeezed his hand between his.

How was he supposed to just come out and say, _I’m throwing a fit because I’m still in love with you, and you’ve happily moved on, and I want to be more than friends, but you want to be only friends, and we’re too old for this go around._

He wasn’t. So he kept it to himself.

“I’m good, Harry.” he rasped out.

Harry stared at Louis for another long moment, waiting for something, anything, but it didn’t come because Louis was too stubborn.

“Okay,” he let go of Louis’ hand and moved towards the door, “Will I see you again?” he pouted.

Louis instantly felt guilty for acting like such a shit.

“Of course, H,” he softened his tone and rubbed a reassuring hand against his bicep, “You know where to find me.”

Harry smiled weakly and nodded his head before pulling the door open.

“Goodnight, Lou.”

“‘Night, Harry.”

  
\--

Louis mindlessly traced the tip of his finger over the dried H across his chest. The only physical proof that tonight actually happened.

“Lou,” Liam called out as he walked through the front door.

“In the studio.” he mumbled out.

Liam’s boots scuffed against the hardwood floor until he was standing directly in front of him.

“So…Harry.”

Louis audibly sighed and scrubbed a hand over his face. He didn’t want to explain to Liam how they got in touch, he didn’t want to explain why Harry was in their apartment not too long ago, and he _really_ didn’t want to explain how deeply he still felt for him.

“You’re still gone for him aren’t you?”

Guess he wouldn’t have to.

He slumped further into the couch and shrugged his shoulders in defeat. He was always going to love Harry. Every fiber of his being yearned to care for Harry.

And he wasn’t sorry for it, but for the sake of their friendship, he was forced to keep it concealed.

“He’s grown up a lot over the past eight years. He apologized to me even though he didn’t have to,” Liam moved towards the couch and wrapped a strong arm around Louis, “I think him apologizing to me says a lot about the future he wants with you. Not that I’m suggesting he wants to run off and elope, but he still cares about you, and wants to make every wrong he made in your life, right.”

Louis considered Liam’s words. It made sense and the decent part of him wished that was enough. Wished that Harry could make his mends and everything be left at peace.

But the selfish part wanted him for keeps.

He hid his face into Liam’s shoulder and allowed himself to wallow in self-pity. Liam, bless him, only tugged him closer, and let the silence remain silent.

“Just be careful, Lou.”

“I will.”

  
\--


	12. Twenty-nine, Chelsea

Twenty nine.

Louis was officially one year closer to his third decade on earth.

He doesn’t know why he did it, but he rented a hotel suite just for himself, for this night only.

A room with a beautiful view of the snow dusted skyscrapers, a king sized bed, entertainment room, fully furnished kitchen, hot tub style bath, the whole nine, and the only thing he’s managed to touch is the coke and rum he brought along with him.

Who could blame him? He was fucking lonely but still wanted to celebrate.

He poured himself a third glass and tip toed over to the chaise set in front of the floor to ceiling windows. He lounged across the cushion and adjusted the hem of his sweater to cover his bare thighs. There was likely no one peeking into his suite, but if there was, he sure didn’t want to give them a free show.

Every light in the room was off to further immerse himself in the city lights. New York was so gorgeous around this time of year and looking over it from the top level, of a hotel in Chelsea, was straight out of a movie scene.

Maybe he was more tipsy than he thought.

He sipped at his cup and let the sweet burn of the liquid slide down his throat. He shuffled his legs together to cause friction and gain heat. Being as easily chilled as he was, one would think he’d be covered from head to toe, but the drink supplied warmth, and to be frank, he just loved being naked.

He took another sip of his drink and stared out into the city. His vision began to blur as he went so long without blinking. He wanted to commit it to memory, wanted to remember this view forever, if only he still had his old polaroid.

A ding rang from the inside of his bag placed by the bed. He was going to ignore it until morning but it was quickly followed by two more.

He swallowed down the remainder of his drink, set the glass down, and peeled himself from his comfortable position. He slowly wobbled over to his bag and dug around until he pulled out his phone.

Three new texts from Harry.

_Happy birthday!!!_

_I didn’t forget. I swear!_

_I moved into my new place today so I was pretty busy up until now._

Louis checked the time on his phone. 8:12 pm.

Congratulations and Merry Christmas Eve! He sent off after making sure everything was spelled and capitalized correctly.

Not even a minute passed by before Harry’s reply came.

_Any big birthday plans?_

Of course not. Everyone is at home, with their families, on Christmas eve.

Well, mostly everyone.

And that’s when an idea struck him. It might be stupid, but It might not be.

He didn’t give it much thought before tapping the call button on his screen. The dial tone rang a few times and each second that passed without Harry’s voice filling the line, was more anxiety filled than the last.

“Hello?” Harry’s sleep heavy voice rumbled through the line.

Louis’ mouth to filter was delayed as he whined at the sound, “Hi, Harry.”

Harry chuckled lowly, “Everything alright?”

“M’good. Everything’s good,” he paused to lie across the bed, “What are you up to?”

“Well, I just finished a FaceTime session with mum, she says hello and happy birthday, by the way.”

Louis beamed to himself in the darkness of the room. That meant Harry was talking about him which also meant he was thinking about him.

“Tell her I said hello and thank you.”

“And how is your birthday going, love?”

“It’s good, besides mourning the last year of my twenties,” Harry laughed deeply on the other side of the line and Louis wished he could wrap himself in the warmth of his voice, “S’actually why I called. I know it’s Christmas eve, but if you aren’t doing anything, I’ve purchased a suite in Chelsea, and have no one to—"

“Yes, of course! Send me the address.” he interrupted with urgency.

“…Wait really?”

“Yeah. I’m not doing anything and I wouldn’t miss out on an exclusive birthday party with THE Louis Tomlinson.”

Louis scoffed, “You’re going to give me a big head if you keep up that line.”

“I’ll be there, Lou. Just give me about twenty minutes, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

  
\--

  
_Waiting in the lobby x_

Louis quickly finished washing out the smell of rum from his mouth. The last thing he wanted to do was put Harry in a situation where he was tempted. He clumsily slipped on the tightest pair of paint streaked leggings he brought along and gave himself a once over in the mirror.

Damn. He looked good. Hopefully Harry would agree.

He grabbed his room key and phone and hustled out the door.

His slightly buzzed brain swore the elevator ride was taking longer than necessary, but he reasoned with himself, he was pretty high up, and he definitely wouldn’t be able to take the stairs.

He leaned against the bar on the elevator wall and tipped his spinning head back. He breathed deeply through his nose and tried not to let his nerves get the best of him. He couldn’t help it. It’s just what Harry did to him.

The elevator came to a halt and the doors pinged open. Louis peeled his tipsy body from the wall and walked out one foot in front of the other. He turned the corner and nearly tripped over himself when he caught sight of Harry.

Long lean body standing in the middle of the dimly lit room, black jeans clinging to his thighs, coat folded neatly over his arm, black blouse left obscenely unbuttoned, and silver chain hanging off his neck.

Louis wanted nothing more than a little taste.

Harry hadn’t seen him yet. He ran a hand through his product free hair and tapped away at his phone. Louis was so entranced by him and his effortless beauty. How was this was how he looked after a full day of moving?

His phone dinged in his hand and he raised it up to his face to check the notification.

_Don’t think I won’t go door to door x_

Louis laughed quietly and locked his phone again.

He tiptoed his bare feet across the ice cold marble floors, creeping up behind Harry, and pulling him in from behind.

“Hello.” Louis whispered into Harry’s ear and snickered at Harry’s sharp intake of breath.

“You sneaky little shit,” he turned in Louis’ grip causing Louis to slightly tip over. He caught Louis by the waist, and balanced him within his hold, “I see someone started the party without me.”

His dimples made an appearance and Louis went a bit breathless, “Sorry, babe. Thought I’d be alone tonight, but I brushed my teeth, used mouthwash, and threw out the bottle as soon as I invited you.”

He curled his fingers in the front of Harry’s shirt. It was silky and black, and Louis really wouldn’t mind ripping it off right here.

“I really appreciate that, Lou. Thank you.” he squeezed at Louis’ hips eliciting an embarrassing giggle from Louis, “Oh, God. Let’s get you to your room.”

  
\--

  
“You didn’t mention there was a pool table!” Harry bellowed out.

Their pinkies were linked as Harry took a tour around the suite. The gesture wasn’t exactly platonic, but Louis wasn’t exactly sober. He followed behind Harry with a dopey smile on his face as he was pulled further into the entertainment room.

“You play?” Louis asked as Harry dropped his hand and went to select a stick from the wall.

“A little, yeah,” he moved towards the center of the table and removed the triangular rack, “We have a table at the firm and playing was sort of the only way I got the older pricks to respect me.”

Louis giggled under his breath at his tone. He leaned back against the table, pushed his body up on the ledge, and sat his tipsy arse right on top of the green felt. His head was slightly spinning and he needed to sit and relax. Preferably on Harry’s lap, but this would have to do.

Harry rolled the chalk cube around the tip of the stick and stepped between Louis’ dangling legs. Louis allowed a coy smile to spread over his face as he leaned back against his palms.

“You know it’s quite rude to sit on top of tables.” he stepped in closer and let a dimple carve its way into his cheek.

“I won’t tell if you won’t tell.” Louis sat up straight and gripped the ledge of the table.

He wanted Harry closer. Wanted to be able to feel each intake of breath. Wanted to feel the heat of his body press into his own. He craved it. He missed it.

He bit down a smile when he caught Harry’s eyes trace the movement of his jumper slipping off his shoulder. He didn’t want his eyes off of him. Didn’t even want to move from his spot on the table.

“You’re also obstructing my view of the shot.” he spoke low and slowly, only a breath away from Louis’ face.

Louis visibly shivered. His eyelashes fluttered shut and a trembling breath escaped his lips. Harry was so fucking hot and he was so unaware.

He needed more.

He tugged Harry in by his belt loops and whispered hotly against his neck, “I think you can sink one from here,” he nosed along the expanse of skin, relishing in Harry’s clean scent, “Show me how you earned that respect you speak of, yeah?”

He leaned back and met Harry’s dilated eyes with a devious smirk on his face. Harry swallowed hard and stared Louis down for a moment before he leaned in.

Fuck! Okay, fuck, this was happening.

Louis closed his eyes in anticipation and braced himself for a kiss…that didn’t come.

Harry hooked his chin over Louis’ shoulder, completely passing his lips, positioned his arms around Louis’ waist, and molded into his shooting stance. He took a few practice pumps and Louis nearly drooled at the way his bicep flexed against the material of his shirt.

He couldn’t look away and was slightly startled by the sounds of balls cracking against each other behind him. Harry stepped back and Louis glanced over his shoulder to watch not one of the balls sink.

Louis turned and raised an eyebrow at him.

“I’m actually quite terrible. The respect was earned out of pity.”

They both burst out into laughter and Louis’ buzzed body nearly tipped over. But, of course, Harry’s hands were there to catch him.

“Oh, it’s funny, yeah?” Harry raised his eyebrows and lightly chuckled with him, “Let’s see you try and sink one, birthday boy.”

Louis’ laughter quickly cut off at the challenge, “I’ll sink more than one. Two even.”

He hopped down from the table and caught his balance against Harry’s chest. He snatched the pool stick from Harry’s grasp and bent over the table to line himself up with the cue ball. His stance was probably shit compared to professionals, and his bum was most definitely too poked out to be considered proper, but he could feel Harry’s eyes on him, and in that moment, that’s all that mattered.

He had never even picked up a pool stick in his life. He genuinely had no idea what he was doing but he felt like he did a good enough job pretending. He lined up the tip with the white ball and assumed he should aim for the middle.

He let his right hand swing backward, and he forcefully jabbed forward, missing the cue ball entirely.

Smooth. Real fucking smooth.

Harry cracked up silently behind him and Louis dropped the stick to bury his embarrassed face in his hands.

Harry’s cackles increased in volume and Louis hid his shame further into the table. If he weren’t so mortified he’d probably be laughing at himself as well, but it didn’t take too long to join in, as Harry’s laugh was the most contagious thing on the planet.

He felt two strong arms pull him back from the table and turn his body to face Harry. He pulled Louis in for a tight embrace and rocked them side to side as he let his laughter fade out.

“Don’t worry I’ve done that before too.” he put space between them and brought his hand to scratch at the bottom of Louis neck.

“I think that’s more than enough billiards for my lifetime.”

“Agreed,” Harry stepped back completely and laced his fingers through Louis’, “Let’s check out your room.”

And suddenly the air in the room was thick and it no longer felt like a friendly meeting. At least, in Louis’ mind it didn’t, and a small part of him sorta hoped Harry felt the same.

Harry pulled Louis along as they walked down the lavish hallway, past the kitchen, and around the corner of the living room, until they reached the doorway of Louis’ room.

Louis slightly stumbled over himself when Harry came to a complete halt.

“We need to get some water in you,” he snickered under his breath.

“M’fine, your gigantic body just got in the bloody way.” Louis snipped.

“Your accent always gets thicker when you’re inebriated, Lou,” and, okay maybe it did. Louis would have to do a better job at concealing that, “Go make yourself comfortable, I’ll bring you some water."

He squeezed Louis’ hand and slowly withdrew it before making his way to the kitchen.

Shit.

How was he supposed to get comfortable? He was way out of his element, quite nervous, and not fully aware of what was going to happen next.

He rushed into the room on steady feet and eyed his choices. If he laid out on the bed would that raise a red flag for Harry? Would lounging on the chaise accentuate his curves too obviously?

Would Harry even notice or let his mind travel to that territory?

Over the last month they’d gotten closer. Harry spending more time at Louis’ apartment, Louis taking the train to meet him for extended lunches, and cozy dinners. The two of them practically orbited each other and they didn’t pause contact often. All the while, Harry never brought up the supposed _boyfriend_ he had, and Louis never breached the topic either.

He still didn’t even know the blokes name.

They were sort of stagnant in a situation where the touches lingered but never teetered over the line of romantically involved. Sometimes Louis felt moments where he could push further, and could potentially blur the lines of what friends did, and what lovers do, but always refrained for the sake of Harry’s _relationship_.

He shook himself from his thoughts and decided to stay put. He stood awkwardly in the middle of the room and allowed the view of the city lights pull him into a trance.

He heard the sound of Harry’s boots clicking against the floor and approaching closer. He didn’t peel his eyes away as Harry stood behind him with a hand on his waist and the other offering a bottle of water.

“Let’s sit.” he whispered into Louis’ ear and that was all the convincing Louis needed.

Harry walked over to the chaise and laid his body out against it. He stretched his limbs before tucking his arms behind his head and kicking off his boots to cross his legs at the ankles.

Louis twisted off the cap of the water and lazily drank down a third of the bottle. He bent over to place it on the floor and walked over towards Harry. His long lean body took up most of the space, but he did invite Louis to sit with him, and that’s what Louis intended to do.

He untangled Harry’s legs, crawled between them, and laid himself across his chest.

Harry didn’t seem to mind as he wrapped his defined arms around Louis’ shoulders and breathed in Louis’ scent, “The view from here is breathtaking,” he softly murmured into Louis’ ear, “And the city lights are alright too, I suppose.”

It took Louis a second but when it hit him he shook his head and laughed quietly under his breath, “Awful,” he buried himself further into Harry’s neck, “I remember your lines being so much better. You must be really out of practice, love.”

Harry’s body shook as he laughed along with Louis’ words, “Or you’ve removed your rose-colored glasses and my lines have always been that bad."

“Nah,” Louis brought his hand up to rub reassuringly against Harry’s pectoral, “You’ve always been quite the charmer."

“Well I’m glad it only ever worked on you.”

Louis felt the buzz of his voice spread throughout his body and immediately decided if Harry was willing to give, he was willing to take.

He shifted and pressed his thinly covered arse against Harry’s crotch and folded dramatically at the waist to retrieve his water bottle. He felt Harry’s hands slide from his shoulders down to his hips and smirked to himself when Harry gripped a little tighter than normal.

“A bit thirsty.” Louis leaned up and glanced over his shoulder, before wrapping his lips around the rim of the bottle, and hollowing out his cheeks.

“You’re more pissed than I thought.” Harry laughed and pulled Louis back against him.

“And what would ever make you think that?” he dropped the bottle and leaned his head back against Harry’s chest, letting a small smile play on his lips.

“You were always a right tease if you had enough in you,” he slowly drifted the tips of his fingers underneath the hem of Louis’ jumper and caressed slow circles across Louis’ hip bones. Definitely not platonic, “Doesn’t seem like much has changed.”

Louis suppressed a laugh at the tingling touches. He wished, more than anything, that Harry’s fingertips drawing against his skin was a relaxing feeling, but it wasn’t. He was still so sensitive, and if he gave away the fact that he was still terribly ticklish, he was afraid Harry wouldn’t let him live it down.

“Almost positive you made that up.” he turned half way in Harry’s hold, tossing a thigh over his hips, and resting his head comfortably underneath Harry’s chin.

From here he had a perfect view of the city and had the steady rhythm of Harry’s heart beat lulling in his ear.

He never realized how much he could appreciate a sound.

“I remember once, when we were eighteen, you and I were pissed off our arses, and we didn’t want to go home like that, so we went down to the brook instead. And you dragged me down near the deepest waters and stripped down to your pants.”

Louis replayed the memory clearly in his head. It was one he was rather fond of.

“You knew I couldn’t swim, but you dived in anyway, and shucked your wet pants right into my chest,” Harry paused and shook his head, “I was so bloody whipped, I stripped, and jumped in after you. And still, after facing my fears, and nearly drowning, you teased me underwater, and quickly swam away.”

Louis laughed out loud at his eighteen year old self. He couldn’t help it back then. Harry was so easily riled up and it was Louis’ favorite thing to watch.

“That was the best swimming lesson ever, don’t deny it.”

“I’ll confirm when you admit to being a tease,” the heat of Harry’s palm seeped through the thin fabric of his leggings high up on the back of his thigh, “You’re even doing it right now.”

Louis quirked a brow and peered up at Harry’s face, “How am I doing it right now?”

Harry’s palm slid dangerously high up the back of his thigh as he pinched the fabric and let it snap back against Louis’ skin, “Who wears something this obscene when they’re planning on being alone,” he gripped onto Louis’ thigh and pulled him impossibly closer, “Bet you found the tightest pair of trousers in your luggage and slipped them on right before I arrived.”

Jesus. Was Louis that really that transparent?

“Don’t flatter yourself, love,” he denied, “You’re lucky I have trousers on at all. Surely didn’t before you got here.”

Harry growled out loud and and pinched roughly at Louis’ thigh, “Insufferable.”

Louis laughed into his chest and maneuvered himself until he laid face to face with Harry. Their laughter dwindled as Louis’ body pressed flatly against Harry’s. The warmth accumulated between them was so familiar yet charged with unrelenting titillation.

Louis stared into his English green eyes as Harry ran his palms from Louis’ ribs down to the dimples of his spine. The touch sent sparks up his back and a soft whimper trapped itself in his throat. He felt his eyes glass over, but he ignored it, didn’t want to miss a second of this moment.

“I missed you.” Harry deeply rasped.

“You just saw me on Monday.” Louis weakly joked.

“No,” he withdrew one hand from his back and brought it to cup the side of Louis’ face, “I’ve missed you for nine years, Louis. I know we’re sort of making up for lost time now, but I’ve missed you, and I’ve missed how you make me feel. I’ll always miss you.”

Harry grazed his thumb against the highest point of Louis’ cheekbone as Louis tried his best not to let his already glassy eyes, spill over.

“I’ve missed you too, Harry,” he curled his fingers into the front of Harry’s shirt, “Wouldn’t spend another day without you if I had it my way.”

It was probably too heavy of an admission, but Harry’s eyes sparkled, and sweet smile spread over his lips.

It was the truth. Who was Louis to deny him of that?

Harry traced his fore and middle finger down the slope of his cheek, to the edge of his chin, and softly grazed his thumb from his top lip and swiped gently, back and forth, against his bottom.

“Have I told you how beautiful I think you are?”

“Not nearly as often as you should.”

Harry threw his head back in laughter and Louis experienced a deep satisfaction knowing he made Harry visibly happy.

“Well in that case,” he moved his hand to the back of Louis’ neck and softly scratched through the hair, “I think you’re beautiful and I’ll make it my goal to remind you every day.”

A slow smile spread over Louis’ face and biting down on his lip did little to contain it, “I’ll hold you to it.”

Harry brought him forward by the back of the neck and pressed a lingering kiss to his forehead, “Happy Birthday, baby.”

  
\--


	13. Twenty-nine, Tribeca

Louis was lightly jostled awake from the breaks of the train screeching to a halt. He was so fucking exhausted. Gallery meeting after gallery meeting, handcrafted canvas after canvas, installation after installation. He’d never been so caught up in work.

Of course, he was grateful. Would never even consider doing anything else as a career. But he hardly had time for himself anymore. Hardly even had time to eat, and as of late, not even attempting to get in a full eight hours of sleep.

Nights were spent painting until his eyes were bloodshot and the tendons in his shoulders and wrists were begging him to stop. He couldn’t though. His mind was running rampant with inspiration and it didn’t feel like a completed day unless it was translated onto canvas.

He peeled himself from his seat, adjusting his scarf and hat, and clutched his two oversized portfolio’s, packed with Harry’s commissioned pieces, and made his way toward the exit.

Harry was to pick him up from the station and take him to see his new place for the first time.

Louis wouldn’t say he’s been avoiding him, per se, but he’s definitely been avoiding him.

Ever since he woke up with Harry’s body curled around his own, the morning of Christmas, he can’t say he’s made the same effort to see him. In fact, he’s only seen him twice since then. Work was a legitimate excuse but he knew he could have let Harry come and watch him paint if he wanted to.

He felt guilty. One, for avoiding Harry as much as he has, and two, for potentially being the other man.

There was nothing platonic about them and Louis came to terms with that a little too late. But if Harry had a boyfriend, why has he never brought him around? Or brought him up for that matter.

As much as Louis didn’t care to know, he did, and he was planning on getting to the bottom of it this evening.

He stepped off onto the train platform and before he could reach into his pocket to pull out his phone, two strong arms wrapped around his waist, and a wet kiss was pressed to his cheek.

“Guess who.” Harry whispered into his ear. Smile evident in his tone.

If Louis weren’t so tired, and so bloody nervous, he probably would've played along. Instead he carefully set down his portfolios and turned in Harry’s arms.

Christ he would never get used to how fit he looked in a suit.

“Hey.” he smiled to the best of his ability and hugged Harry back.

“You alright?” Harry pulled back with furrowed brows and searched Louis’ face.

“Just a bit tired is all,” he stepped out of Harry’s embraced and lifted his portfolios forward, “I come bearing gifts, though.”

“Don’t pull that. I’m paying you in full today,” he grabbed both of the portfolios in his left hand and pulled Louis into his side with his right, “You can sleep at mine if you get too tired, yeah?”

He wished the offer wasn’t so tempting, and he wished he had the willpower to say no, but alas, Harry’s warmth drew him in, and he could do nothing other than nod his head, and allow himself to be coddled.

“Worries me when you’re this quiet, baby,” he began to lead them out of the station, “Let’s get you to the car. You can kip on the way.”

Sounded good to him.

  
\--

  
Louis walked through the elevator doors on tired feet and was thankful he had Harry to carry his belongings and guide him with a gentle hand on his back. He slept easy on the car ride up. His head resting in the crook of Harry’s neck and Harry’s tender fingers brushing through his fringe at the bottom of his neck. He didn’t want to wake from his spot, but Harry assured him they would have a quiet night in, and Louis could finally get a dose of relaxation.

The two of them walked down the narrow hallway leading to Harry’s front door. He dug his keys from his pocket, unlocked the door, and pushed it open encouraging Louis to step in first.

“Welcome to my humble abode.” he said with an antsy smile on his face.

Louis smiled back at him dreamily. He was so proud of Harry and truly couldn’t wait to have a look inside. He stepped through the door and immediately caught his breath in his chest.

The main living room opened up to polished wood floors, pristine white walls, and seemingly untouched, contemporary furniture. The open kitchen was massive and gleaming with modern appliances, and Louis wouldn’t be surprised if Harry spent most of his time in there. The sun was set by now but judging by the size of the windows, sunlight was likely always beaming through.

The place was gorgeous, and by far, the most spacious living he’s seen in all of New York.

“Harry,” he spun in place to face him, “It’s so gorgeous, love. I’m afraid to touch anything.”

Harry lightly chuckled and shook his head, “You can touch whatever you like. I don’t spend much time down here anyways,” he nodded his head in the direction of the rich wooden staircase, “I have a more _lived-in_ living room upstairs along with all the rooms if you’d like to see?”

Louis nodded his head excitedly and followed closely behind. Not a single board creaked as they traveled up to the second level and when they finally reached the top Louis felt more at ease.

Brick accent walls, antique furniture, overflowing book cases, and framed family pictures decorated the area. This was more Harry’s speed. More of what Louis imagined Harry’s home would look like.

Harry set the portfolios down carefully, and pulled each canvas from their bags, lining them up against the wall. Louis watched with sleep heavy eyes as each canvas revealed brought a brighter grin to Harry’s face.

“Lou,” Harry pulled out the last one and lined it up next to the others, “I just—just—how?”

Louis quirked an eyebrow in confusion, “How?"

“Yeah,” he laughed and ran a hand through his hair, “How do you do it? From abstract, to these realistic looking ones, to landscapes, every single piece is incredible."

Louis was asked the same question many times, by many different people, and he had a long winded answer about studying light, depth, color, and different techniques passed down for centuries, but being asked by Harry was a totally different experience.

It was asked out of love and adoration. He was genuinely engaged, and captivated by his work, and Louis could do nothing other than blush under his gaze.

“Well, knowing you’ll receive a hefty payment surely gets the creative juices flowing.” he joked.

“There he is. I knew he’d come out before long,” he pinched gently at Louis’ cheek, “Can we hang them up now?” he bit down a smile and shucked off his suit jacket.

Fuck. The fabric of his shirt stretched obscenely over his shoulders and defined arms.

There was no way Louis would survive watching him lift heavy frames and hammer shit into the walls.

“Let’s see your room first, yeah?” he added a coy eyebrow raise just to seal the deal.

Harry paused the unraveling of the tie around his neck and clenched his jaw to avoid a smile, “Yeah we can do that,” he let the tie slip from his neck and unbuttoned his shirt with only two buttons to go, “Hope you don’t mind if I get comfortable.”

The bastard smirked. Fuck. Louis should have just stuck to nailing shit into the walls.

“By all means,” he waved his hand dismissively and ignored Harry’s snickering, “Hope you don’t mind if I do the same.”

He slid his hat off his head, ruffled a hand through his hat hair, and quickly slipped off his shoes. He unwound his scarf from around his neck, and shrugged off his coat, revealing his tightest pair black jeans, and his favorite white knit jumper. He had a feeling Harry’s eyes were on him, and when he looked up from under his lashes, he was correct.

“You look cute,” Harry thread his fingers through Louis' hair, “Your fringe makes you look so young.”

“Oh, cause I’m so bloody old,” he slapped Harry’s hand away and stepped back from the couch, “Which way to your room, then?"

Harry was still unmoving in his spot, soft eyes trained on Louis, and bottom lip tucked between his teeth. Louis allowed himself to be at the center of Harry’s gaze for a minute. He loved the way it felt when Harry’s attention was focused solely on him, and being caught under his stare was far from intimidating.

“H,” he smiled and prodded gently at Harry’s hip, “Show me where all the magic happens.”

Harry’s smile deepened before he scoffed and shook his head, “Right. Follow me.”

He slipped his pointer finger into one of Louis’ belt loops and tugged him along. It was a common gesture between them, and it normally wouldn’t bother Louis, but the recurring thought of these same gestures being used on another man, made his skin crawl.

Before he could speak up they reached the end of the hallway and Harry was pulling him through the door.

City lights sparkled outside the floor to ceiling windows, rich wooden floors led to a completely oversized bed, ensuite, walk-in closet, and a small snow dusted terrace.

Louis could see himself here. Could see himself setting up an easel in the corner of the room and relocating to the terrace when the weather was warm enough. Could see himself falling into the white sheets after a drawn out day and waking up to the love of his life beside him. Could just picture himself existing in this space.

But that was the extent. Could only picture it. Would likely never experience it.

“D’you like it?” Harry asked hesitantly.

Louis turned away from the view and nearly melted at Harry’s hopeful state.

“I love it, Harry. I’m so, so proud of you, love.”

Harry exhaled a sigh of relief and marched over toward Louis, embracing him in a tight hug. It took everything inside of Louis to keep it as friendly as possible, only limiting himself to a tight squeeze, and a few pats on the back. As he tried to pull back, Harry let him, but only far enough to where his hands were cupping his face.

“I’m so happy you like it,” he spoke in a hushed tone and caressed Louis’ cheeks with his thumbs, "I can’t wait for you to spend more time here. We could have movie nights, and you can paint on the terrace, and we can have proper sleepovers like when we were younger.”

Louis wanted that. He wanted all of that and more. And the dopey smile on Harry’s face made it that much harder to deny him.

But he had to.

“Not sure the boyfriend would fancy that as much.” Louis blurted out uncomfortably.

Harry’s smile dropped and the color in his face drained. He looked so wounded and Louis felt so fucking guilty. Felt like he slapped the life out of him with his words. Louis shrugged Harry’s hands from his face and pouted towards the floor. He couldn’t even bare to look at him.

Silence encompassed them for what felt like hours and Louis was beginning to suffocate.

“Lou,” Harry gently lifted Louis chin to face him, “I think we should talk about this. About us.”

This was it. This was where Harry realized he was complacent in his life with another man, and the friendship he had with Louis, was fun while it lasted, but was no longer appropriate.

He didn’t know if he could face that right now. Face the fact that Harry was happy without him.

He wordlessly walked to the corner of the room where the large windows met. Just needing a second to commit this view to memory before everything shattered to pieces.

“Will you talk to me please? Or at least look at me?” Harry softly approached behind him.

Louis turned in his spot and pressed his back against the cool glass. He nervously adjusted his fringe and lifted his head to look Harry in the eyes.

Shit.

Any words he’d come up with died in his throat when he saw the look of desperation on Harry’s face.

“I always want to be honest with you, yeah?” Louis could do nothing other than nod hesitantly, “I haven’t even seen him since the first night I went over to yours to watch you paint. Anything I thought I might have felt for him, or anyone else, was out the window when I reconnected with you.”

Louis’ fearful stare morphed into confusion.

“I met him later that night and called it all off. It wouldn’t have been fair to him and I didn’t want that guilt on my hands.” he confessed remorsefully.

“So…you’ve been single this entire time?” Louis inquired and Harry gave a small regretful nod of his head, “And you didn’t think to tell me? Or at the very least bring up the fact that you hadn’t been seeing him?"

“I never brought him up because I was too afraid to admit that I left him for you.” Harry professed, successfully silencing any remark from Louis.

"I already felt lucky enough to have a friendship with you, I didn’t want to scare you off,” he stepped in closer and threaded his hands through Louis’, “I thought I had enough time to move on from you. Nearly a decade later, and all it took was the first minute of being in your presence again, and I was proven wrong.”

Louis’ breath caught tightly in his chest and a mixture of relief and apprehension swirled inside of him.

“I don’t know if I’ll ever move on from you, Louis, and I’ll never feel like I fully deserve you. You always loved me unconditionally, and I pissed all over that in the past—“

“Harry, you’ve got to know I don’t hold that over you. I’ve fully forgiven you and it’s time you forgive yourself.”

Louis gripped tighter to Harry’s hand as he watched Harry’s bottom lip wobble slightly.

“I have, Lou, but it just hits me sometimes that I don’t deserve—“

“Harry,” he cut him off sharply and tugged tightly on his hands, “You deserve it all, yeah? You’ve faced your demons head on, endured more pain than I, or anyone else could possibly comprehend, and you’ve still managed to come out on top.”

“But I still—“

“No, love,” he cut off softly once more, “You’re so deserving,” he slid his hands to cup his face between them, "You deserve happiness."

Silence settled between the two of them. Harry staring at Louis and Louis staring back. He wasn’t sure what was going through Harry’s mind, but he could feel his rapid pulse where his hands rested, and could only hope everything was okay.

A few long moments stretched on before Harry sighed deeply and rested his forehead against Louis’. Before Louis could register the closeness of their bodies, Harry stepped back, caught Louis’ wrist in his hand, and pulled him over towards the bed.

Harry sat down against the edge and pat the space beside him inviting Louis to join. Louis settled in close and instinctively rubbed and encouraging hand against Harry’s broad shoulders.

“I want you, Lou,” he looked up from his lashes and met Louis with a determined gaze, "I want everything I once had with you, but at the same time I want a fresh start. I want to show you who I am, who I’ve become, and I want to make you proud, always."

Louis was rendered speechless.

“I want to visit your art store on a Tuesday afternoon, and see your face light up when you see mine. I want to go to your art shows and outbid everyone, every single time, because I love what you create, so much. I want to come home to you prancing around this place with paint stained skin and nothing but an apron on."

“Harry…” Louis managed to squeak out.

“But more than anything, I want to be enough for you, Lou."

Louis’ heart broke.

“Hey,” he ran a gentle hand through Harry’s hair, “You’re more than enough for me, Harry, you always have been."

He continued to thread his fingers through his short hair, hoping the movement was soothing, and giving Harry time to completely register his words. He meant it. Harry would always be enough and would always be deserving of love.

Harry stared back into Louis’ eyes and placed a shaky hand on Louis’ knee, “It’s so hard to accept but it’s so much easier to believe when it comes from you.”

Louis couldn’t help the small smile from spreading across his face. If his support made anything easier on Harry, he would spend the rest of his days doing so.

“I want it all too, you know?” he spoke slowly and deliberately, "I’d love a fresh start with you. I want to get to know you all over again and I want you to get to know me as well.”

Harry’s eyebrows shot up and dimples molded their way into his surprised face, “What? You—you want this? Us?”

“I do,” he smiled widely and cocked his head to the side, “And I’ll hold you to that _outbidding everyone at my art shows_ line."

They both huffed out a laugh before everything went quiet again. Harry traced circles into Louis’ kneecap and let his eyes linger on Louis’ lips.

“You sure you want to give this a go?” he spoke lowly, "This is what you want?”

“Yes,” he answered in confidence as his eyes flickered down to Harry’s lips, “And I have for quite some time.”

Harry raised his hand from Louis’ knee and gently cupped it against Louis’ jaw. The atmosphere was fueled with desire and each drag of Harry’s thumb across Louis’ bottom lip sent another spark of lust through his veins.

“Can I kiss you?” he rasped desperately.

“Please.” Louis whispered through bated breath.

Harry leaned in torturously slow and Louis’ eyelashes fluttered shut at the feel of their lips slotting together. A simple press of the lips has never felt so much like heaven. The plushest part of Harry’s lips moved unhurriedly against his own and the slow pace was cause for hushed whimpers escaping Louis’ throat.

Harry pulled back and watched Louis with a slight blush on his face. Any exhaustion Louis was experiencing earlier was a thing of the past. His heart was racing and his body was tingling, and all he wanted was more.

He pulled Harry in by the back of the neck and attached their lips again. Harry moaned into the kiss when Louis took the light presses to long drawn out snogging. Harry slowly pushed his body against Louis’ causing them to ease back into the sheets.

Harry slipped his hand under Louis’ white jumper to grip onto his hip. All the while never separating from the kiss and managing to ease his tongue out to brush against Louis’. They simultaneously gave each other full access, allowing their mouths drop open, and letting one another in. Wet noise filled the room as Louis kissed him deeper, and deeper, hoping to convey how much he’s needed this.

Harry pulled off shakily, shuddering through his breathing, and taking Louis’ face in his hand once again.

“You have no idea—” he cut himself off and swallowed hard. His fingers shook as they caressed against Louis’ cheek and traced across his lips, “No idea how much I’ve missed that.”

The unrelenting nerves were evident in his words and Louis turned to press a kiss to his palm. He sat up leaving Harry to awkwardly straddle over his hips. Louis took his quivering hand between his own in an attempt to calm him down.

“You’re shaking, love.”

He took Harry’s wrist in one hand and his palm in the other. He carefully pressed a lingering kiss to every last finger, feeling the heat of the skin on his lips, before checking Harry’s reaction.

His eyes were glassy but his breathing seemed to be steadying. He continued to press kisses against the back of his hand, to his knuckles, and down the length of each finger. His hands were so fucking big and imagining everything they could do to Louis was getting him harder by the second.

Louis looked up under his lashes once more. Harry was slack jawed and completely hypnotized by Louis’ lips.

He needed more.

Louis pressed one last kiss to Harry’s palm and took him by the middle finger. He pressed a soft kiss to the tip and gently wrapped his lips around it. Harry’s eyes widened in surprise and his mouth opened on a gasp. Louis took it as his cue to suck down until his lips met the silver ring wrapped snugly around his finger.

“Fuck, baby,” Harry sounded absolutely gone for already. Louis leaned his weight on his hands, giving Harry full control of the situation. He pumped the digit in and out slowly and added another along side it, “How did I go so fucking long without this?”

He withdrew his hand and replaced it with his mouth knocking Louis back against the bed in the process. Louis curled his fingers into the back of Harry’s hair and wrapped his legs around him to pull him in closer.

Fuck. Harry was equally as hard.

Harry groaned at the touch and swiveled their hips against each other. Any previous hesitation dissipated as he took Louis’ wrists in his hold and kissed down the column of his neck.

“Gorgeous, gorgeous, gorgeous,” he repeated in between kisses, “missed this.”

He latched on to the spot below Louis’ ear and rocked down harder against him. Louis’ eyes rolled back in pleasure and he quickly became desperate and needy in Harry's hold.

Harry pulled off with a kiss to the blooming bruise and murmured softly in his ear, “Tell me what you want,” he rolled Louis’ sensitive earlobe between his teeth, “Anything you want in the world. It’s yours.”

Louis whined in the back of his throat, pulling Harry back by the hair, and halting the movement of their hips, “Want you to show me what I’ve been missing,” he pressed their lips together and pulled back with Harry’s bottom lip between his teeth, “Fuck me, please.”

Harry moaned at his words and connected their lips in a heated kiss. Louis quickly became lost in the feeling. Letting the warmth of Harry’s body seep into his and savoring each slide of their tongues. Harry pulled away from his mouth slowly and leaned his weight on his elbow to hover over Louis.

“M’gonna give that to you, baby,” he leaned down and barely grazed his lips against Louis’, “Gonna take it as slow as I can though,” he brushed a hand through Louis’ fringe and pressed a lingering kiss to his forehead, “I’ve wanted this for so long. S’that alright?”

“Shit,” his heart stuttered in his chest and his member gave an interested twitch. He loved when Harry used to draw things out. Could only imagine how much better it would be this time around, “Of course, m’yours, just—please.”

Louis’ desperation echoed through the room but he didn’t care. He had Harry staring down at him like there was no other place in the world he’d rather be. Harry pressed one last kiss to his forehead, reassuring Louis that he was safe, protected, and above all, taken care of.

Harry kissed down the length of his body, completely disregarding the layer of clothing put between them. Harry paused his movements as he reached the hem of Louis’ jumper and nosed back and forth at the thin sliver of skin peeking through.

He slowly pushed the material up to Louis’ sternum and moaned quietly, “Christ, how I’ve missed you,” his words were directed straight to Louis’ tummy and he punctuated each one with a kiss, “So perfect."

Louis blushed under the praise and was thankful Harry was too immersed to notice. As Harry nibbled and sucked, Louis’ skin became hotter, and hotter, until eventually he took it upon himself to slip the jumper the rest of the way off. Harry moved to suck a mark into Louis’ hipbone and slowly let his hands roam the expanse of Louis’ naked torso.

Louis gripped onto Harry's wrists as his movements continued, just needing something to cling onto, as Harry stimulated his body. His hot mouth was maddening and his roaming hands had Louis on edge.

“Missed you,” Harry whispered between kisses across his torso, “Missed your body. Missed everything about you,” his mouth hovered over Louis’ chest and his piercing green eyes stared back at him, “I can’t—“ his voice caught in his chest, “Can’t believe you’re here. Can’t believe you want this."

Before Louis could respond Harry bit down on his nipple, causing Louis to hiss in a mixture of pain and pleasure, and Harry quickly soothed it with a gentle tongue. He repeated the action over and over, and Louis’ body was flushed with want.

“Harry,” he whimpered sounding needy even to his own ears, “Need you, please.”

“Shh, v’got you.” he connected their lips for a brief second before sitting back on his heels.

He unbuttoned the last two buttons of his shirt carefully and tossed the material to the side. Louis marveled at the sight before him. Light dusting of chest hair, leading to the puffy skin of his nipples, the soft definition of his abs, and the perfectly manicured trail from his bellybutton to his disappearing v-line. Louis want to reach out and touch. He felt like he was in a fucking fever dream, Harry was so unreal.

Louis reached out unsteadily, and before he could get the slightest touch, his wrists were being pinned at his sides.

“You’ll have time for that later,” he squeezed lightly, “But for right now it’s all about you.”

Fuck.

Harry knew what he was doing. Knew denying Louis of the simplest pleasure would drive him even closer to the edge, and fuck if Louis wasn’t such a sucker for that feeling.

Louis whined in the back of his throat and thrashed his hips upwards. If it was going to be all about him, he was going to make what he wanted, abundantly clear.

Harry released his wrists and carefully undid the button and fly of Louis’ jeans. He slid the tight material down at a slow pace, unintentionally bringing his pants down with it. Louis’ cock slapped obscenely against his tummy, and if it weren’t for the hunger in Harry’s eyes, he probably would’ve been a hint more embarrassed.

Harry stared unabashedly. Hands roaming over Louis’ curves, lip bitten harshly between his teeth, and eyes glassed over to the brim. It looked as if an emotional storm was brewing inside of him.

“Hey,” Louis called out softly bringing his hands to Harry’s face, “Y’alright?”

Harry nodded his head rapidly and released his lip to speak, “Just feel so lucky, you know?” his eyes watered and his attempt at a smile wobbled to a frown, “I’ve dreamed of this moment for nearly ten years. S’just a little overwhelming is all.”

“It’s just me, yeah?” Louis encouraged with gentle scratches to his scalp, “I’m right here with you, love.”

Harry leaned down and met Louis for a passionate kiss. Tongues swirling and emotions set ablaze. Each grind of the hips and lacing of finger tips sent them both into a stage of yearning.

Harry kissed his way down Louis’ body, marking where he pleased, and spending extra time on the tan skin of his thighs. Louis was absolutely withering into the sheets. Desperate to get a hand on himself but withholding for the sake of pleasure.

Harry met his eyes in a heated stare as his pink lips hovered over the head of his cock. Warm puffs of breath sent shivers up Louis’ spine and he forced himself not to thrust into the feeling. Harry pressed one single kiss to the tip, string of precome attached to his bottom lip, as he completely pulled away.

He leaned over to reach into his bedside table, pulling out lube, a condom, and some sort of remote. He set the first two items down and pressed the single button in the middle of the small controller. Dark black shades ascended from the ceiling and Harry watched as they dropped all the way to the floor, giving them complete privacy.

“Can’t let the people of New York see what I’m about to do to you,” he growled with a smirk evident in his tone. He slipped off the bed and quickly rid himself of all clothing left on his body. Christ how could Louis forget how fucking massive he was, “Turn over for me.”

Louis did as he was told and arched his back as sinfully as he could manage. He heard Harry moan from behind him, and peeked over his shoulder, to see Harry tugging at his length to the sight of Louis in front of him.

Louis let a smug smile spread across his face, and it lasted for all but a moment, when he felt Harry’s hands on his arse. He huffed out a broken whimper when Harry’s slick lips pressed directly against his hole. Nothing ever felt as great as Harry’s mouth on his most intimate parts.

“Fuck,” Harry moaned before diving in for a few generous licks, “Missed how you taste.”

He buried his face deeper causing Louis to fist his hands in the sheets and rock his hips back at a careful pace. Harry was like a man starved and Louis couldn’t help the sounds spilling from his mouth, which only seemed to spur Harry on.

Louis rested his head against the pillow and took everything Harry was willing to give him. As Harry’s tongue worked in, out, and around, he felt a slick fingertip prod at his hole. He fluttered his eyes shut and kept his breathing as steady as possible.

Harry was met with little resistance. Louis was so turned on and so fucking ready. One finger inside of him just simply wasn’t enough.

“Harry,” he carefully thrust back on his finger, “Need more, please.”

Harry obliged. Slipping in a second finger at his request and peppering soft kisses to the skin stretched around him. Louis absolutely lost it. High pitched moans escaped from his mouth and Harry’s hums of approval sent him into a fit of tremors.

How could he have gone so long without this?

Harry slowly eased in a third finger and kept them still enough for him to adjust. Louis was too impatient. Grinding back on his fingers and softly begging for Harry to give him more. Harry kept his fingers buried inside of him and felt around until Louis jolted forward in pleasure.

The tips of his fingers rubbed in all the right places and Louis’ cock dripped at the feeling. He kept the pressure up. Spoiling Louis with the waves of intensity and getting himself off at the sight and slick sound.

Harry leaned over Louis’ body to whisper in his ear, “Wanna ride me, baby?” he asked in a deep rasp, "Want to see how pretty you look when you come.”

Louis was reduced to enthusiastic nods and airy whimpers.

Harry kissed between his shoulder blades before withdrawing his fingers slowly and maneuvering himself against the headboard. A small smile crept up on his face as Louis clumsily straddled himself over his seemingly endless legs.

Louis instantly kissed the dimples on his face, distracting Harry as he reached for the condom and lube. He tore the packaging and tossed it to the side before grabbing the base of Harry’s cock and rolling the condom on.

Harry’s breath caught in his chest as Louis’ nimble hands squirt the cool gel onto his cock and earnestly stroked Harry’s length.

Fuck.

He was so fucking huge and Louis willingly accepted the fact that he would be feeling it tomorrow.

He wiped his hand against the sheets and went to line himself up before Harry stopped him.

“You sure?” he whispered huskily.

Louis’ heart sank. They both knew there was no turning back if they went through with this, and there was nothing Louis wanted more. He was completely sure. Has never needed anything quite as much as this.

He silently leaned forward and pressed his lips against Harry’s in a slow embrace. He grabbed Harry’s cock from behind him and lined it up with his entrance. Harry’s eyes shot open and he gripped Louis’ hips to steady him.

“Never been more sure,” he pressed a kiss to Harry’s lips, “about you,” he slightly sank down, “about us,” he hissed as the tip entered his hole, “about this.”

He buried his face in Harry’s neck and gripped onto his shoulders as Harry’s thick length slipped further inside of him. Harry rubbed his palms soothingly against his back, whispering sweet encouragements, as Louis sank at his own pace.

Feeling Harry inside of him was overwhelming. It took every ounce of self-control to not shout about the fact that he never stopped loving him, and that he never forgot the sound of his voice, or the shade of his lips. That each passing day Harry was always there in the back of his mind.

Tears welled in the corners of his eyes. Half from the intoxicating burn and half from feeling like he got a piece of himself back.

He sat fully against Harry and kept his face hidden.

_Perfect, so perfect._

He was sure Harry was pressing the words into his skin but couldn’t be sure. He was in such a haze and everything around him was slightly fuzzy. A single tear rolled from his eye and dripped down against Harry’s shoulder.

Harry pulled back and kissed away the tears from around Louis’ eyes. But they didn’t stop. They only increased as he swiveled his hips forward and received loving words from Harry. He was positive he was in a state of euphoria.

“You’re so beautiful, baby,” Harry moaned into his ear as he guided him by the hips, “Never gonna be able to stay away from this.”

Louis croaked out a broken moan and lifted up to properly ride Harry into the mattress. The angle was perfect and the soft stream of profanities escaping Harry’s mouth spurred on Louis’ bounces.

Harry squeezed at Louis’ left cheek and took him by the jaw with the other. Eye contact was always a thing for him and Louis would never deny him of it. Harry’s eyes fluttered shut as Louis gave it everything he had. Clenching tightly around him and fucking down at a fast pace. His thighs were on fire but it was worth every second of Harry’s tip nailing his prostate.

Harry continued his string of compliments and Louis took it in stride. Displaying his body obscenely for only Harry’s eyes. Bouncing at a pace that had them both panting.

“Harry, fuck, m’so close. Please.”

He wasn’t quite sure what he was asking for, but Harry took care of him as he planted his feet on the mattress, and fucked up into Louis fast and hard. He grabbed hold of Louis’ cock, using the built up precome, to ease the quick slide of his hand.

“So good, Louis,” he praised as his thrusts sped up impossibly, “You want to come for me?”

Louis cried out as a response, feeling the heat pool in his stomach, and clenching tightly around Harry.

“That’s it. Come for me, baby.”

And that’s all it took. Louis was spilling over Harry’s hand and letting Harry finish off inside of him. He attached their lips immediately as he felt three words begin to rise in his throat. He knew he still felt that way but wanted the timing to be better.

Harry indulged him. Sliding their tongues against each other as he pumped his hips forward a few more one times. Louis’ body shook against his as he came down from his orgasm. Their lips separated and Louis leaned back to catch the look in Harry’s eyes.

Half lidded and short of breath, Louis had never seen something so beautiful. He pressed their lips together once more before easing himself off of Harry’s still sensitive cock. He curled up in his lap and lazily pressed his lips to Harry’s neck.

The two sat there completely satisfied and totally immersed in their post sex haze.

“Hey,” Harry slightly jostled Louis in his arms. Louis was still too fucked out to respond, “Louuuu, hey.”

Louis groaned and picked his head up to look at Harry, “Hmm?”

“You still feeling tired?”

He felt sated and relaxed but not tired in the least.

“Just a bit.” he rasped out sleepily. No one had to know he was milking it.

“How about we get cleaned up and I draw us a bath, yeah?” he kissed under Louis’ ear making it impossible to deny him.

“Sounds perfect,” he took Harry’s face between his hands, “Think you can still carry me, old man?”

And before any snickering left his mouth, he was being whisked away from the bed, towards the en suite.

God.

He’s missed this. More than he once thought.

   
\--

 

Louis was woken up by the feel of gentle lips being pressed to his forehead. Too tired to open his eyes and too wrapped up in Harry to move.

He could feel Harry’s eyes on his sleeping figure. Unaware that Louis was conscious and trembling under his gentle touches. He felt so at ease. So comfortable. There was no way he was going to let this life slip away from him again.

Just as he was on the cusp of sleep, he felt Harry’s lips press against his forehead once more.

“I can’t wait to fall in love with you all over again."

   
\--


	14. Twenty-nine, Tribeca

Soft fingertips traced mindless patterns into the naked curve of Louis’ hip. Benevolent lips pressed against the smooth skin of his cheekbone. The constant pitter-patter of raindrops lulled him further into relaxation and the warmth of Harry’s pants clad body made it that much harder to leave.

Louis has seen the inside of his own apartment a total of three times since they’ve rekindled their old flame.

Spending time with Harry was so easy.

He would send a car to have Louis picked up. Louis would meet Harry just as he was dropped off at his building. Dinners turned into cuddles. Cuddles turned into sleepovers. And, eventually, sleepovers turned into Louis only ever leaving when his shop needed him.

He couldn’t help it. It was maddeningly impossible to stay away from Harry. He loved every moment shared between them.

Loved being able to paint as Harry watched from their bed. Loved watching Harry read over legal documents for hours. Loved pulling him away from said documents for hours. Loved the untamable chemistry between them. Loved how deeply cared for he felt.

They were finally in a place of health and happiness, and asking Louis to step away from that for even a second, was torturous. He finally felt at home.

But, alas, he still paid rent every month, for a place he hardly lived in, and reasoned he should probably spend at least one night out of the month there.

He lifted his head and stared up at Harry’s profile. His brows were furrowed and his lip was bitten between his teeth in concentration. The slow movements of his finger tips never faltered but he must have sensed a pair of eyes on him as a dimple slowly made it’s way into his cheek.

“See something you like?” Harry mumbled not taking his eyes off the paper.

“No, just trying to figure out what I’m looking at.”

Harry choked out a laugh as he set his papers down and pushed Louis off his lap. Louis withheld his laughter to the best of his abilities as his back hit the cushions of the couch.

Harry pinned Louis' wrists above his head, and bracketed his hips between his knees, all with a menacing smile on his face, “Have you figured it out yet?”

“Nope, “ Louis squirmed underneath his hold and shook his head stubbornly, “Think I need a closer look.”

Harry immediately took the hint and bent forward, sealing their lips together. The short strands of his hair tickled against Louis’ cheeks and his free hand wandered down the length of Louis’ body. Louis allowed his mouth to drop open and welcomed Harry inside with a strained whimper. Just as his cock gave an interested twitch, Harry’s hand rubbed tortuously slow against his thinly clothed length.

Louis exhaled a breath of pleasure and moved to arch his body into the touch. Harry separated from the kiss and kept a close eye on Louis’ reaction. Each time Louis pushed into his hand, he’d withdraw, and each time Louis whined his hand was back on him. Like clockwork.

Harry directed a cocky smile his way, knowing just how easily turned on Louis was by over the pants hand action. But, fuck, it felt so good. Harry’s big, warm, hand rubbing in all the right places, and applying a tantalizing amount of pressure. He had Louis’ eyes rolling back in no time.

“Love how hard you get for me,” he leaned forward and crashed his lips against Louis’. He released Louis’ wrists and wrapped his hand around Louis’ neck. Not applying pressure. Just giving Louis all the right illusions, “Want to fuck you again."

Louis’ eyes fluttered shut at the proposition and the warmth in his tummy spread throughout his body.

They genuinely couldn’t keep their hands off each other. One minute Louis would run his fingers through Harry’s hair and the next he’d be bent over the nearest surface in the room. They were fucking crazy about each other. Could hardly go an hour without expressing it.

Harry kept his hand around Louis’ neck as he slipped his other underneath the tight seam of Louis’ briefs. Louis’ breath hitched in his chest as Harry skipped over his cock and circled a finger around his still prepped, and slightly wet, hole.

“Fuck, Lou.” he whispered huskily and pushed his middle finger in with ease.

Louis clung onto the hand placed against his throat as Harry’s finger slipped inside. It was beyond maddening. The rough drag against his walls sent pin pricks up his spine but the perfect length of his finger kept him wanting more.

Fuck. He wanted this so fucking bad. Was practically ready to be taken right here. But he knew if they were to fuck again, he’d collapse into Harry’s arms, and would not want to leave the rest of the night.

He let himself indulge in a minute of pleasure. Letting Harry finger him to the point of arousal and letting his precome stain against the tight fabric of his pants.

Harry withdrew his hands from their positions and moved them to remove the briefs from Louis’ body.

Shit. He had to end this now or he never would.

“Babe, wait,” Louis breathlessly spoke out, “Need to—I need—“

“Shh. ‘ve got you. Just stay still.” Harry rasped out and pressed a calming kiss to Louis tummy.

Fuck, he was so sweet. Always so ready and willing to take care of him.

“No, H,” Louis lifted Harry’s head and paused the removal of his pants, “I want this— fuck—but I have to get going.”

Harry’s brows furrowed as his face morphed into confusion, “Where are you going? I thought you didn’t have to work?”

“I don’t,” Louis slid out from underneath him and quickly stood up off the couch, “I just know if we go another round I won’t have the energy to leave.”

Harry sat back against the couch and pulled Louis to stand between his legs, “And what’s wrong with that?”

“I just—“ Louis shivered as Harry ran his hands from the back of Louis’ thighs and cupped his arse gently in his hands, “I, um, haven’t been to my place in a while—“

“I’ll send someone over to check on it,” Harry interjected and sucked a kiss into Louis' hipbone, “I’ll even have them bring over a change of clothes if you want.”

Harry pulled him in closer by his arse cheeks and pressed a trail of wet kisses down to his bulge. Louis balled his fists at his sides, and tried to ignore Harry’s convincing mouth, but expectedly failed as Harry sunk his teeth along the inside of his thigh.

“Fuck,” the word quietly slipped from his mouth and Harry squeezed his cheeks harder at the sound, “I have to—I still—fuck—I still pay rent. I have to spend some time there.”

The reasoning sounded better in his head, but spoken out loud, didn’t sound as convincing.

“I’ll pay your rent,” Harry pulled off Louis’ thigh where the skin was beginning to bruise, “I’ll even reimburse you for all the time you spent here,” he pressed a wet kiss to the head of Louis’ cock, “Just stay. Please.”

Harry’s sinful, fucking, lips shined as he pouted and begged Louis to stay. The hands on his arse gripped and squeezed in an extremely compelling way. And Louis couldn’t kid himself anymore. He knew he couldn’t turn Harry down, but he sure as fuck could make him work for it.

“No need for all that, love,” he took Harry’s face between his hands and pressed a feather light kiss against his lips, “Just convince me.”

Harry quickly stood, sweeping Louis off his feet, and wrapping his legs around his waist. Jesus. Louis was going to have to personally thank Harry's trainer for keeping him so fucking fit.

“You’re not going anywhere,” Harry sealed their lips, once, twice, three times too gently, “At least not until I’m done with you.”

Louis did his best not to visibly shiver at his words. Shit. He needed to pull himself together, “You’re not doing much of anything."

Harry growled at Louis’ tone and pinned him up against the nearest wall. Fuck. Louis’ cock absolutely throbbed where it was trapped in his pants. Riling Harry up was too easy, and it was the quickest way to get both of them going.

“Don’t need to do much of anything,” he licked a stripe up the length of Louis’ neck and gently nibbled on his earlobe, “Could make you come right here, right now. Right in your pants.”

He trailed his lips across Louis’ naked collar bones and pushed their hips together. Louis nearly melted at the feeling but held it together out of pure stubbornness.

“Would be lovely if you’d get on with it,” he squirmed in Harry’s hold and was pinned against the wall once again, “Could've made myself come by now.”

“Mmm, but that’s not what you want, is it, baby?” Harry reached a hand up to brush Louis’ fringe away from his eyes and gripped back onto his thigh, “You want me to do it. Want my hands. Want me to bend you over that couch and fuck you just the way you like it."

Louis’ resolve was crumbling with each word. Fuck. He did want all those things and he fucking wanted them now.

“Please.” he whimpered out.

He could feel Harry’s grin against his neck before he could see it. When their eyes met Harry was beaming with confidence and Louis couldn’t help but hide his quickly flushing face into Harry’s neck.

Harry pressed a kiss to his bare shoulder and pulled back from the wall. He rubbed his hand soothingly against Louis’ back, and through his hair, as he walked them over to the couch.

God. Harry had such a way about him. Louis always felt so loved.

Harry gently laid Louis out against the couch and stared down at him for a moment. Louis lifted his arms above his head and accentuated the curvy length of his body. His heart fluttered in his chest when he caught Harry grinning down at him. Eyes glazed over and palm adjusting his cock in his pants.

Harry bent forward and pressed a lingering kiss against his forehead.

“Always going to take care of you, yeah?”

Louis looked up at him and could do nothing other than nod his head in agreement.

Often times Harry couldn’t help but remind him how serious he was about them. Louis knew it stemmed from their past, but never discouraged him from expressing those feelings.

Fuck. He loved this man. Loved him so much.

“Get your kit off,” Harry pressed one last kiss to his forehead, “I’ll be right back.”

Louis quickly rid himself of his briefs. He didn’t trust that he wouldn’t get a hand on himself so he shoved his hands under bum and awaited Harry’s return.

His skin crawled with anticipation. Toes curling, legs crisscrossing, nerves buzzing around in his tummy. Intimacy never got old with Harry. Only ever got more thrilling.

Harry slowly made his way back. Each stride more confident than the last and each step causing his exposed cock to bob in the most erotic way. Louis’ mouth fucking watered and his hole clenched in suspense.

Harry set down the bottle of lube and drank Louis in. Eyes scanning the expanse of his body. Fingertips tracing each curve with the carefullest of touches. He was so clearly enamored.

“Want you just like this,” he slid his hand towards Louis’ face and let his fingers softly drag over the pink of his lips, “Want to see you. All of you.”

Louis kissed the pads of his fingertips, spread his legs, and pulled Harry down between them. There was no denying Harry. He’ll always want to give himself to him at Harry’s request.

Harry kissed down the length of his body as he messily drizzled lube over his fingers. He sat back on his knees and swirled his middle and pointer finger around Louis’ entrance. Louis gasped and clenched his fists into the cushions as Harry slipped in two fingers without much resistance.

Louis could hardly handle it. Harry’s eyes never left his body as his chest heaved and his cheeks became redder. He needed something to grab onto. Something other than the cushions of the couch.

He slid his hands down between his legs and took Harry’s massive length in his hold. Harry moaned. Actually fucking _moaned_ at the feeling, and fuck, Louis needed to hear that sound again.

He quickly released to lick the palms of his hands and took Harry’s cock in his hold once again. He followed the pace of Harry’s fingers as he worked his hands up and over his shaft, allowing his thumb to swipe against the tip on every other stroke.

Harry’s hands faltered slightly. Eyes sealed shut and rough whispers of _fuck_ and _yeah_ led Louis to quicken the pace. He felt a third finger enter and the feeling caused him to tighten his grip on Harry’s cock.

“Baby—“ Louis cut Harry’s words short by dipping his thumb into his slit, “Fuck. No—no touching. Gonna come if you don’t stop."

Louis pouted but removed his hands obediently. Harry watched in awe as Louis brought his thumb, coated in Harry’s precome, to his lips, and sucked it dry.

He growled lowly, removing his fingers, and snatching the bottle of lube to drizzle the cool liquid over his cock.

“Eager?” Louis snarked with a dazzling smile on his face.

Harry tossed the bottle to the side and dragged the tip of his cock against Louis’ hole. Shit. Louis practically melted into the couch. Bones completely lax and legs spreading on their own.

“Always eager for you, baby,” he slipped his tip past the ring of muscle and spoke through shortness of breath, “Now let me hear how much you love it.”

And he did.

Harry fucked him good. Deep and hard. Fast and unrelenting. Louis’ chanting of Harry’s name accompanied his whimpers and moans, and his voice echoed against the slapping of skin. Harry’s grunts were like music to Louis’ ears, and his protective hands, and words of encouragements, reminded Louis that he was right there. That he wasn’t going anywhere.

Reminded him that he was so, so deeply loved.

“Harry,” Louis cried out one last time, “I love you.”

And Harry came at his words. Filling Louis with his come and spilling tears across his skin. Louis felt so relieved. Couldn’t have stood another second without Harry knowing.

Harry kept himself buried deep inside of Louis. Tip pressed against his prostate, most likely too sensitive to be pleasurable. Louis’ eyes rolled back as Harry took his cock in his hand and began stroking at the perfect speed.

“Look at me,” Harry instructed as he grabbed Louis’ jaw with his free hand, “I’ve always loved you,” he quickened his pace and tightened his fist, “Never stopped. Never will.”

Louis felt the heat coil in his stomach and his vision became blurry with tears. Harry’s hand never faltered as his hips perfectly thrust forward a few more times.

“I love you,” Harry gushed. Louis came on a cry. Streaks of come reaching his abdomen and Harry worked him through it, “I love you, I love you, I love you. I’m so fucking glad I get to tell you."

Louis took a minute to catch his breath. Slightly wincing as Harry pulled his spent cock from his arse. Louis’ lids were heavy as he fully came down from his high. Harry maneuvered Louis onto his side and curled up snugly behind him. The couch was far to small for the both of them, but somehow, it worked.

Louis basked in the warmth. Each inch of his naked body consuming the heat of his lover behind him. He felt completely at peace and felt the mood in the room mirror his own.

It wasn’t exactly a surprise that they were both still in love with each other, but hearing the words come straight from Harry’s mouth, was a sound he forgot he missed.

“H,” Louis turned in his hold and slotted his legs carefully between Harry’s, “I never stopped either, you know?”

A slow grin spread over Harry’s face and he leaned in to press a kiss to the tip of Louis’ nose, “I know, my love,” he kissed Louis lips and leaned back to look him in the eyes, “’ve never doubted how you felt about me.”

Louis swallowed the knot in his throat and cuddled further into him. They stared into each others eyes and softly caressed one another’s skin. The rain and their hushed breathing being the only sound in the room.

“Wish I didn’t have to go so long without you.” Harry softly confessed as he pushed Louis’ fringe out of his eyes.

Louis shook his head and traced the muscle of Harry’s arm.

“Everything had to fall into place,” he paused letting the words settle in the air around them. He smiled softly and pressed a firm kiss to Harry’s lips before looking back into his eyes, “Now everything’s golden.”

  
\--


	15. Thirty, Brooklyn

The bell above the door jingled just as Louis went towards the back of the store to grab the keys. Fuck. He slightly banged his head against the wall in frustration before sighing deeply.

He had an exhibition to prepare for. The curators at the MoMA were giving him such a huge opportunity and people from all over the globe were coming to see his work. He needed to close up the store and get home.

Well…

He needed to get to Harry’s place, where most of his supplies migrated, and where his finished pieces stayed. There was just more room there, and seeing his boyfriend of nearly a year, sweetened the deal as well.

He turned off the lights in the back and walked out to the front to address whoever was in the store. He was just about to apologize for being closed before he saw who it actually was.

Harry smiled at Louis’ surprised face and pulled him in for a sweet kiss, “Hi, baby.”

“Hey, love,” Louis’ eyes crinkled with joy and he wrapped his arms around Harry’s neck, “What are you doing here? Thought you had a meeting at the firm tonight?”

Harry bit down a smile and snaked his arms around Louis’ waist. Louis could tell something was up. Could tell just by the glint in Harry’s eyes.

“Might’ve made that up,” he walked them backwards towards the door, “Might actually have a surprise planned for you."

Louis’ eyebrows shot up, “Oh, yeah?” Harry nodded excitedly and Louis softly chuckled, “Is it couples massages? Because I wouldn’t be opposed.”

Harry laughed out loud and hugged Louis tighter against him, “Unfortunately no, but I can give you that, free of charge, tonight.”

He winked cheekily and Louis rolled his eyes, “I’ll hold you to it,” he lifted onto his toes and pecked Harry square on the lips before removing himself, “What’s is it then?”

“Lock the door,” Harry instructed. Louis eyed him suspiciously but followed his orders nonetheless, “Let’s go upstairs.”

Louis quirked a brow and was a bit taken aback, “What?”

“Let’s go,” Harry smacked a hand against Louis’ bum and tugged him gently by the wrist, “I’ll guide you but you have to keep your eyes closed, yeah? Don’t spoil the surprise by opening them.”

Louis stood still for a second. He’s been at the shop all day. He would have seen Harry sneak in if he stopped by. What could he possibly have up there for him? He looked Harry up and down. Evaluated the bounce of his heels and the giddiness in his cheeks. He was skeptical but decided, fuck it.

“Alright,” he sighed with a smile on his face, “Lead the way.”

  
\--

  
“Last step. You’re doing great.” Harry encouraged as they reached the door of Louis’ apartment.

“Can I open yet?” Louis fidgeted with the skin of his thumb and bit down hard as a smile threatened to take over his face.

“Not yet, Love. But may I borrow your keys to open the door?” he reached in Louis’ pocket without giving him the time to answer.

Louis was resigned to a scoff as he shook his head at Harry’s eagerness. He heard the click of the door being unlocked and felt two large palms cover his eyes from behind.

Harry slowly walked them forward through the doorway and shut the door behind him with his foot. Louis had no idea why he was so antsy, but nerves settled in his stomach, and his heart rate sky rocketed.

“Okay, on three,” Harry whispered into his ear and a zip of shivers ran down Louis’ spine, “One, two, three.”

Harry removed his hands, and as soon as Louis’ vision revealed the sight in front of him, a sharp gasp escaped his mouth, and tears filled his eyes.

His mother, stepfather, five sisters, and his one and only brother, all under one roof, in Brooklyn.

Louis quickly ran over to the youngest set of twins and dropped to his knees. He hugged them tightly into his chest as he sobbed out tears of joy. He felt arms wrap around his body from each direction. Kisses being pressed to his cheeks and tears staining his clothing.

He was so fucking happy. Could hardly get a word out with his shortness of breath.

He released the children and stood to his full height, embracing each of his sisters, and letting the tears flow. All of them have grown so much. Obviously, he’s seen them over skype and FaceTime, but seeing them in person after ten years, was an entirely different experience.

“I can’t believe you’re all here,” he pressed a kiss to each of their foreheads and wiped the tears away from their eyes, “You’re all so big now.”

The lot of them laughed through their sniffles and released Louis from their hold.

Louis turned and faced his mother. She was still so beautiful after all this time and Louis’ lips wobbled as his resolved crumbled, and he broke down in tears once again. Guilt and shame washed over him but it was all overpowered by love as soon as she pulled him into her arms.

The two of them embraced for what felt like hours. Crying into each other’s shoulders and spilling out every _I’ve missed you_ collected over the years.

“So good to see you, baby,” his mother pulled back and took his face between her hands, “Oh you’re so handsome. I did well.”

Everyone in the room laughed and wiped at their tear tracks.

God. This moment was so surreal.

“Hi, mum,” he whispered out, not having much of a voice from all the crying, “What is everyone doing here?”

“It was Harry’s idea!” his sister, Fizzy, blurted out.

“He flew us out for your exhibition,” Lottie, his other sister, cut in, “Him and mum have actually been planning a trip like this for ages.”

Louis looked back between his mother and Harry. Both of them with shit eating grins on their face.

“S’true, love,” his mother added, “Just had to find a time where everyone’s schedule lined up, but Harry pretty much took care of everything.”

Louis’ smile took over his face as he turned to face his lover. Harry bashfully shifted on his feet and bowed his head to the floor. Louis walked over towards him, placed his face between his hands, and kissed him.

“How?” Louis whispered out.

“Well, last night when we went out for dinner, I had Liam let them up, and they’ve been here ever since, so—“

“No,” he kissed his boyfriend’s lips once again and caressed the highest points of his cheeks, “How did I get so bloody lucky?"

Harry laughed and kissed him again as a chorus of coo’s rang in the background.

“Your health and happiness mean everything to me,” he spoke directly to Louis. Paying no mind to anyone else listening in the room, “I’ve seen how stressed you’ve been lately, and I know you’ve missed your family, so there really was no other option."

Louis bit down on his lip and forced himself not to cry. This was the love of his life. The man he intended on loving until his dying breath. And Harry made it so incredibly easy to do so.

“I love you, Harry”

“I love you, too.”

  
\--

  
“There’s nothing on earth that man cares more about, than you,” Jay, his mother, spoke in a hushed tone as the two of them watched Harry get on with his siblings, “What you have is rare. Truly something special.”

A smile crept up on Louis’ face as his mother’s words registered in his mind.

“I know,” he softly agreed, “Sometimes I can’t believe he’s mine. He’s so good to me, mum.”

Her eyes crinkled up in joy as she laced her hand with her son’s, “I’m so happy for you, baby,” she squeezed their hands and went back to watching Harry goof around with the twins, “Hold on to him this time around.”

Louis met Harry’s eyes from across the room. There was no way he would ever let a love like this slip through his fingers. He wanted this forever.

“I will,” he smiled back at Harry and gave his mother’s hand a tight squeeze, “I definitely will.”

  
\--

Louis switched off the light to Harry’s bedroom and launched himself into bed. Strong arms maneuvered him across Harry’s chest and pulled the duvet up over them.

It was a long, but very much needed, evening of catching up with his family and showing them a little bit of New York. They were currently staying at Louis’ apartment and would be in America for the next nine days. Louis still couldn’t believe Harry pulled it off without letting it slip.

He was so glad he did, though. He’s never felt so loved in his life.

“Did you have a good time, baby?”

Louis lifted his head from Harry’s chest and let a sleepy smile spread over his face, “Of course I did,” he leaned down to kiss Harry slowly. Barely slipping his tongue in and pulling away teasingly, “You’re so good to me.”

“Good,” he hitched Louis’ thigh up over his hips until Louis was laid out on top of him, “There’s one more surprise, though.”

Louis perked up and let his hips grind against Harry’s, “Mmm, I could go for another one,” he ground down again and smirked when Harry swallowed hard, “What is it?"

Harry slid his hands to Louis’ bum. Not squeezing or initiating, just keeping him still.

“It’s actually a bit more serious.” he chewed on his lip nervously.

Oh.

Shit.

Was everything alright?

“Okay…” Louis drew out the word and searched Harry’s face for any signs that he should be worried.

“I’ve wanted to talk to you about this for a while,” his hands fidgeted against Louis’ skin as he looked for the right words to say, “I just—I wanted to ask at a time where we both felt ready and I wanted to be sure that we could both handle it.”

What on earth was he on about?

Louis remained silent as Harry worked up the courage “I know your lease will be up soon and I know that your apartment is included your business’ rent, but I’ve spoken to Liam a number of times, and he’s completely on board with renting it out to someone else.”

Louis’ eyebrows raised as realization hit him. Giddiness danced around inside of him but he contained it, as much as possible, for now.

“It’s just—most of your time is spent here anyway, and you already have a key, and there’s really no better feeling than coming home and seeing your face,” Harry took a moment to breathe and Louis harshly bit down a smile, “I just really think we’re ready for this, Lou,” he brushed his fingers through the fringe across Louis’ forehead and smiled up at him, “Will you move in with me?”

Louis pounced as soon as the words were out. Kissing across his face, down to his lips, and anywhere his mouth could reach.

“Christ, I thought you’d never ask,” he pecked Harry’s lips one last time and sat up, completely straddling his hips, “Of course I’ll move in with you."

Harry sat up as well meeting Louis’ halfway for a long, drawn out, kiss. Tongues dancing against tongues and warm skin pressing against each other.

Harry pulled away from the kiss slowly and moved to place a kiss on Louis’ forehead, “I can’t promise things will be perfect all the time. There will be nights that are harder than others. There will be weeks where I’m piled under work. There will be moments of weakness and the pressure of falling back under will be evident. But I’m willing to fight through all of that, and I’m willing to keep growing, with you by my side.”

Louis understood. Knew that everyday was another battle for Harry and knew it wouldn’t always be easy. But he knew Harry loved him and knew, after all this time, neither one of them were going to give up.

He nodded his head at Harry’s words and leaned their foreheads against each other.

“I don’t want perfect,” Louis wrapped his arms securely around Harry’s shoulders and pressed their mouths together, “Just want you. Every single version of you."

That’s all he needed. All he ever would.

 

   
\--


	16. Epilogue

Louis was exhausted.

He’s flown between seven different countries over the past four months. Each with a museum promising permanent wall space, and each with the rich citizens commissioning him. It was amazing. People around the world admired his work to the point where he was able to travel and share it with everyone.

But timezones were a right pain in the arse and not being able to take Harry on these trips were equally as painful.

On the occasion, Harry would fly up to meet him for a weekend, but would inevitably have to be back in New York before the work week started. It was bittersweet. He knew he had someone back at home but also wished that someone could be in all the same places as him. But as much as he wanted that, he would never ask him of it. Both of their careers were prospering and both of them were tremendously proud and supportive of each other.

A few weeks of separation wouldn’t hinder their relationship, and besides, Louis was officially finished with his business overseas, and was now headed home to his one and only.

It was 7 p.m. in New York. Harry was caught up at work and was unable to pick up Louis from the airport himself, but luckily Harry’s driver was waiting just outside the terminal, and Louis would be able to see Harry in no time.

The whole ride up, Louis couldn’t help but let his mind wander. He thought up all the filthy things Harry could do with him. Or do to him. He hasn’t felt the warmth of Harry’s hands in over a week and he nearly whimpered at the mere thought of it.

He rested his head against the glass of the window, doing everything in his power to keep his eyes open, and not let the jet lag take over. Traffic was abysmal as ever and the muggy weather was practically luring him into sleep.

He decided to text Harry to keep himself awake.

_Should be home in about ten. Miss you. xx_

He scrolled up through their previous texts. Grinning at each promise Harry made as soon as Louis was back. Each scroll of his thumb only made him more thrilled to get back and get his hands on him.

_Can’t wait to see you, baby._

_Don’t fall asleep until I get there x_

A zing of butterflies swirled in his tummy as he read over Harry’s text. He remembered thinking the feeling of infatuation couldn’t be topped at seventeen, but it’s only grown stronger with time.

He was still so incredibly smitten and wouldn’t trade that feeling for the world.

Before long, Louis arrived at their condo, and profusely thanked Harry’s driver for all his help. He slung his bags over his shoulder and and rolled his luggage behind him. He shuffled into the elevator as quickly as possible and repeatedly punched the button to their level.

The lift dragged on and on, and Louis could feel the exhaustion in his bones settle. Fuck. He still needed to stay awake for another few hours, but giving in to sleep was just so tempting.

The loud ping of the elevator snapped Louis out of his half asleep trance and he rushed through the doors and hustled down the hall to their door. He unzipped the side pocket of his bag and pulled out his keys, quickly shoving them in the door and turning until it unlocked.

He pushed down on the handle of the door and shoved his way through the entrance. He was nearly all the way inside when—

“Hey, Lou.”

“Shit!” Louis practically jumped out of his skin. He shut the door behind him and immediately threw himself into Harry’s arms, “Nearly gave me a heart attack!"

Harry giggled into his neck as he spun Louis around in his hold. God he missed this. Missed his clean scent. Missed just how easily Harry could pick him up and twirl him around. Missed how—wait. Why was he here?

“I thought you were caught up at work?” Louis inquired.

Harry set him down and drew his lips into a steamy, passionate, kiss. Louis went slightly weak in the knees as the sweet flavor of Harry invaded his senses.

“Needed the element of surprise, I suppose.” he shrugged his shoulders and took a step back.

Fuck. Harry was dressed to the nines in a fitted suit and a white blouse halfway unbuttoned. His hair looked properly coiffed as well.

“Is my arrival such a special occasion you had to go and get all dressed up?” he ran his hands over Harry’s chest and pressed a kiss to the exposed skin.

“No,” he chuckled as he grabbed Louis’ left hand between his own and pressed a kiss to his knuckles, “But this definitely is."

Louis’ insides nearly irrupted as Harry dropped down on one knee.

“H-Harry—what—“

“I love you, Louis,” he softly cut off Louis’ babbling and squeezed at his left hand, “I wish I could’ve done this at the empire state, or the Lourve, or somewhere a little bit more romantic, but I couldn’t wait another minute, baby.”

Louis struggled to catch his breath as a whirlwind of emotions rattled inside his chest.

“I’m grateful for everyday that you agree to be with me,” Harry’s eyes glistened and his throat bobbed as he spoke, “We’ve been through every type of hell imaginable, and for some reason you always choose to stick by me. You know as well as I do, that it hasn’t always been easy, and we had to spend a lot of time on our own, to be able to grow, and become the people we needed to be for each other.”

Louis nodded his head and let his tears stream freely. His stomach was churning and his body was shaking, but he remained as poised as possible for Harry.

“Everyday is another struggle for me. Different challenges are thrown my way, and it’s tough, but getting to be with you each day has made everything so much easier, and I’m so thankful for everything you’ve done for this relationship.”

Louis wiped at the corners of his eyes with the pad of his thumb. His heart was nearly thumping out of his chest and with every word from Harry’s mouth came another tear.

“I’m fully committed to you. I want this forever. Want to start a family with you. Want to grow old with you. Want you even in moments that you don’t want me,” the both of them laughed through their stuffy noses and locked their eyes once again, “I’ve wanted this since I was a little boy. Dreamed of this moment even before I knew what love meant. It’s always been you, Lou.”

“It’s always been you for me, too.” his voice shook and the knot in his throat was increasingly painful, but it needed to be said, even if it’s been said a thousand times before.

“I love you.”

Louis smiled as he wiped his face clean from tears, “I love you, too.”

Harry inhaled a deep breath and stared up into his lovers eyes, “Louis Tomlinson,” he dug into the pocket of his trousers and revealed a thin gold band between his fingers, “Will you marry me?"

“Yes,” Louis choked out on a sob, “Always, always, always.”

Harry absolutely beamed as he slipped the golden band around Louis’ ring finger. Louis practically tackled him to the floor as he leaped into his chest and crashed their mouths together. Neither of them could help but smile into the kiss.

“I’m sorry I caught you off guard. I just couldn’t wait another second.”

Louis lifted his head to react, “Are you actually apologizing? We just got engaged! We should be fucking by now!”

“You’re right,” Harry pulled him in by the back of the neck and let his free hand roam across the expanse of Louis’ body, “Mmm. Fuck. Missed you so much."

Louis frantically rocked against him, hoping to convey all the want and need pent up inside him, “Missed you—fuck—need you.”

Harry pulled Louis back by the hair and paused the movement of his hips, “You’re everything to me, Lou,” his voice was mildly reminiscent but dipped into something softer, “I’m never going to let you forget that again, yeah? Going to prove it to you for the rest of my life.”

Louis wished he had the right words to say. Wished he was as eloquent with words as he was with oils. He wanted to reassure Harry that he never doubted his love for a second, but also didn’t want to discourage any feelings Harry was opening Louis up to.

So he kissed him.

A soft press of the lips, that led to the slow dance between tongues, that ended with a tender bite to Harry’s bottom lip. He knew Harry got the message by the adoring look in his eyes.

“I’ll never abandon you. You’ll always have my love to keep."

Harry’s breath hitched and he leaned in to attach their lips one last time, “I love you.”

“I love you, too."

 

\--

**Author's Note:**

> [ Tumblr](http://www.summerwinefics.tumblr.com)


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